


never surrender

by pocketfullofdaisies



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Armitage Hux is a buddy, Ben is 30 Rey is 20, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant Age Difference, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Dark with a side of fluffy, Dominant Ben Solo, Dominant Kylo Ren, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Excessive Drinking, Excessive smoking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gaslighting, Grimdark, I may be pro First Order, I would describe this as strangers to enemies to star-crossed lovers, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Limited redemption and HEA ⚠️, Morally Grey, Not Beta Read, Now with more emotional wreck of feelings and smut in Part III, Obsessive Ben Solo, Obsessive Kylo Ren, Older Man/Younger Woman, Possessive Ben Solo, Possessive Kylo Ren, Possessive Sex, Power Imbalance, Rey is drawn to darkness, Rough Sex, Thanks Rian Johnson, The Art of War Politics and Corruption, They just have a Bad Romance, This fic is the writer's love letter to TLJ, This is pure guilty trash forgive me, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 50,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketfullofdaisies/pseuds/pocketfullofdaisies
Summary: "You’re a fucking monster," she swears, "You’ve been committing violent crimes against the Resistance and the free people since you assassinated our leadership in cold blood.""Mm..." he hums idly against her throat"And you and your armies will fall," she stifles a moan against his moving tongue, "I will rip out every information from your associates. To hunt you down at every opportunity."Finally, that seems to make Kylo pause. He slowly lifts his head to look up at her in amusement. "So—you’re the Resistance spy I’ve been looking for. Thank you for making this easy for me."In a grim dystopian world where the First Order terror rules the underworld and the Resistance are the law keeping them in check, Kylo Ren is tasked with hunting and exterminating a mole that has infiltrated their criminal network. But when the spy turns out to be the Resistance Officer Rey—who breaks into his quarters one night to apprehend him—a deadly obsession starts to grow between them.
Relationships: Finn & Rose Tico, Finn/Rose Tico, Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey/Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Kylo Ren/Ben Solo
Comments: 85
Kudos: 247
Collections: CardiganVixen's Completed Fics List





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> My attempt to do most of it in Kylo Ren/Ben’s POV for a change. This fic is born out of binge watching AD's Blackkklansman (2018) and Star Wars: Clone Wars Series. With the recent news that AD will be starring in an adaptation of the life of a man fighting during the Cuban Revolution, I really wanted to flesh out his military skills here. 
> 
> **REMINDER:** This is a slightly a dark fic, so please please please mind the tags before you decide if this is alright for you to read. There's a bit of a light bondage in this chapter, but nothing too crazy. 
> 
> A few things:  
> 1\. The Force doesn't exist here, but some Star Wars species (eg. Weequays & Rodians) are present.  
> 2\. The realm is operating somewhat under Martial Law.  
> 3\. All humans are implanted an identifier chip at birth. Think of it similar as the Clones in Star Wars: Clone Wars Series.  
> 4\. There is a war goin' on so shit happens and people are angry, confused and running scared on adrenaline.
> 
> Title of the fic: [Never Surrender](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQ0M6pDcVXE) by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross
> 
> PS: Thank you to my friend for the cover/moodboard! <3
> 
> Sources  
> [Weequays](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Weequay)  
> [Rodians](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Rodian)  
> [Clones' Control Chip](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Control_chip)  
> [Moden Canady](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Moden_Canady)  
> [Gial Ackbar](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Gial_Ackbar)  
> [Mon Mothma](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Mon_Mothma)  
> [Amilyn Holdo](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Amilyn_Holdo)

* * *

Another gun shot, another broken neck and another day in paradise. 

Benjamin Solo hastily hooks back both guns into his shoulder holster and pushes back his sweat-damp hair from his face. He wheezes as he hunches over, his palms gripping his knees as his eyes skim the abandoned warehouse littered with bodies for any stray survivors.

He watches his cohort, Armitage Hux, point his gun at the remaining guy’s forehead to finish him off, but when the weapon only clicks—signalling it was empty, Hux smashes a wooden pole violently to crack his opponent's skull. 

‘Hux, move it!’ Ben roared, slinging three large bags of spice over his broad shoulders. ‘We gotta go _now_!’

‘We could've been out of here _earlier_ , if you didn’t pull a bloody tantrum and started shooting everyone!’ Hux barks back, scrambling for the final two bags.

‘He was being a little shit about the credits,’ Ben grumbled. ‘And he fucking deserved it.’

‘If you keep taking out everyone you disagree with, there’s going to be no one left to do business with, you dumb cunt!’

Suddenly, they see flashes of lights. Hux throws a stunned glare at Ben, likely just as startled as him at how quickly the enforcers showed up on their tail this time.

 _Someone from the supplier’s side must have tipped them off_ , Ben thinks _._

He gestures towards the entrance they came in earlier and they bolt straight out of the main hangar, running down the corridor. 

‘Mitaka, where the hell are you?’ Ben yells into his earpiece.

**‘On the way, Commander. Just loaded the last of the crates with the rifles. ETA five minutes.’**

‘We might not be here in five minutes. Step on it!’ Hux exclaims, his voice starting to show cracks of panic. He sprints hard, overtaking Ben and reaches for one of exit handles—

—before the metal doors crash wide open, slamming Hux backwards into the ground.

Ben’s instincts kicks in like clockwork, dropping his spice bags and immediately throwing himself into a nearby storage room. He rolls away behind a tall stack of containers, pressing his back against it. He'd need to assess how many enforcers he's going to have to deal with.

‘Don’t move, asshole,’ a male voice growls. ‘Where’s your boss?’

Ben hears Hux spit, ‘Go _screw_ yourself—’ before he grunts in pain, evidently from being kicked in the chest.

Another pair of footsteps come in and the first enforcer instructs hastily, ‘Rey—cuff this guy and bind his legs too. With a spice and weapon shipment like this, the First Order wouldn’t have sent him alone.’

Crouching carefully, Ben peers through the top. Through the doorway, Hux is face down in the corridor, cursing as a female enforcer restrains his hands behind his back. He couldn’t see her face, but he makes out her petite frame and brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Ben’s nostrils flare in disgust. Has the quality of their soldiers started to weaken? He could literally snap that girl in half if he wanted to.

‘Captain Dameron—’ the male enforcer speak into his earpiece, ‘—we need backup. We're holding one of them, but we don’t know how many more there are. I don’t wanna take any chances.’

 _Fuck_ , Ben swears under his breath. He had to act now before they brought their entire fucking brigade down here. No aid from the First Order would arrive on time at this point. There are zero divisions nearby this zone which is an isolated neutral sector, strategically selected for this transaction. He'd burn in hell before he'd allow Snoke to chastise him for requesting backup at the eleventh hour. He's _way_ too proud for that.

 **‘Do we have Kylo Ren in custody?’** the voice responds back.

‘Negative, but from the First Order's public holograms, believe we have his number two—Armitage Hux. If Kylo Ren is here, he’ll still be around.’

**‘It's _imperative_ we capture him. We cannot allow him to escape.'**

‘Yes, Captain. But appreciate if we'd get reinforcements. I don’t know how heavily armed he will be.’

Ben couldn’t hide his conceited grin. Kylo Ren is the eponymous underworld identity he's widely known as. The Resistance has been hunting him for years, and he couldn’t help but gloat at how terrified they are to face him in small numbers.

**‘Copy that, Finn. The second squad is on their way. ETA ten minutes.’**

Officer Finn gestures down the corridor. ‘Rey, scope the two storage rooms at twelve o’clock. I’ll do a sweep of this one here. Meet back here in five, and we’ll take the main hangar together.’ 

‘Stay down!’ the Officer Rey orders Hux.

Ben raises his eyebrows in surprise. _What a pretty voice_ , he wonders, almost tempted to growl deeply in satisfaction.

From the shifting noises, Hux is definitely gagged and trashing about on the ground, and Ben almost sniggers with the image of his cohort being pissed and helpless. He searches his pockets for his army knife as Finn carefully enters the room, surveying the place with his gun aimed. Stooping as low as he possibly can—a downside of his monstrous build—Ben waits for Finn to be as close as possible before he springs up, elbowing him hard in the nose to disorient him. Finn stumbles onto the floor, the gun flying out of his hand. Before Finn reacts, Ben twists his arm violently, swiftly grabbing him into a sleeper choke-hold with one arm. He twirls the handle of the blade between his fingers before jamming it into Finn's back, narrowly missing the spine and vital organs. Finn aggressively struggles for a couple of seconds before going limp and passing out.

As Ben slides the knife back out, Finn's earpiece buzzes and he hears Rey’s voice—

**‘All clear at my position. Making my way towards you. What’s your status?’**

Ben closes his eyes to deliberate. Mitaka must be at the rendezvous point by now, just around the corner through the exit doors the enforcers came in. There’s no value for him to finish off this low-ranking nobody. If this officer is that _insufferable_ Resistance Captain Poe Dameron however, that would have been a different story. He’s had many run-ins with Dameron, who more recently succeeded in destroying some of their crucial supply vehicles with a launcher a couple of months back, killing many of their First Order comrades that day. They have yet to even the score since.

And Ben had _always_ been a vindictive bastard anyway.

He releases Finn from the choke and watches his unconscious, bleeding body slide to the floor. And _maybe_ he just didn’t want to upset that cute little officer by killing her partner. He clicks his earpiece and says, ‘Hux's been compromised. I need you to move the vehicle to Exit C and help me haul the spice _and_ Hux out of here. The Resistance backup will be on site in less than five minutes.’

 **‘Affirmative. On my way,’** Mitaka replies.

Ben skids out the room and picks up a muffled, cursing Hux, flinging him over in a fireman’s carry while the other arm picks up three of the spice bags. If there's one thing that anyone who knew Ben could agree on, he’s a beast. His brute strength remains unopposed and no First Order trooper has ever dared challenged his authority since he rose through the ranks. He kicks open the exit doors to see Mitaka slamming the breaks on their hummer outside.

‘Grab the other spice bags and let’s go!’ Ben thunders, tossing Hux into the backseat. He dumps the bags on top of Hux and leaps into the front seat, switching the gears in preparation. When Mitaka loads the last two bags in, they hear the sounds of gunshots from behind, the bullets already flying off the side door.

‘Go, go, go!’ Mitaka yells, slamming the vehicle door after springing to the front seat. He leans out of the window with his weapon to fire back wildly.

Ben floors the engine and proficiently swerves it out of range. The flashes of lights in the distance grows as the Resistance units’ race to the site, just in time to find that the mighty Kylo Ren—Commander to the First Order terrorist organisation and right-hand man of its criminal warlord Supreme Leader Snoke—has eluded them again. 

***

‘Some asshole from the network must have tipped off the Resistance about today's meet,’ Hux hoarsely said, icing his bruised chest. ‘How else could the first two arrive _that_ quickly?’

Ben leans back against his chair. ‘So—isn’t it right that I went into that warehouse with guns blazing?’

Hux shoots him a deadly scowl. ‘I stand by my earlier comment. If you keep fucking them up, _where_ are we gonna source our ammunition?’

‘He _questioned_ the First Order’s ability to compensate him!'

The door to the control room bursts open, and the tall, elderly Supreme Leader Snoke trudges inside with two security officers flanking him. Ben and Hux fall silent, immediately standing from their seats, folding their arms behind their backs as Snoke takes a seat at the head of the table.

‘Very good, Ren. None should _dare_ challenge our power. No matter how insignificant,’ Snoke nods. ‘No one shall have flexibility to question _anything_ about us.’

‘Yes, Supreme Leader,’ both of them respond in unison.

‘It is troubling—’ and Snoke fists his hands together on the table. ‘We seem to have a rat delivering the Resistance intelligence about our moves. They must be offering payment or protection to our suppliers that we're not privy to. We _cannot_ let this continue. A message needs to be sent. Today it may just be our resources lines, but tomorrow it will be something else. Something _far_ more critical to our empire.’

‘I don’t suggest another full-scale attack on their headquarters yet,’ Hux says. ‘We’ve got a number of divisions in the outer zones right now—clearing off some of the blockades set by the Resistance. It may be at least a week more before they return back to base.’

Snoke waves his hand dismissively. ‘Can we pull them back now?’

‘Give us some time to evaluate this setback,’ Ben says. ‘With respect—I don’t think it’s wise to stop the incursion into the outer zones. I hear the outcome is mostly victorious in seizing various Resistance controlled sectors there. We shouldn’t kill that momentum.’

‘What do you suggest then?’

‘If there is someone extracting information, they must have infiltrated our criminal connections. I’ll just need to investigate on my own and ensure the scum is weeded out.’

Hux nods. 'I concur.'

‘Very well, Ren. You will lead this.’ And Snoke turns to Hux with a frown. ‘Captain, I need you to start looking into new recruits to build up our ranks. We cannot afford non-expansion when our enemies are leading attempts to incapacitate my top officers and bungle my operations.’

For a moment, the conversation seemed to be over, but a frightening expression creeps over Snoke’s face, looking back and forth between the two men standing before him before raising a bony finger to Ben. ‘You _deliberately_ disobeyed me again. I specifically ordered you _not_ to get involved in these menial tasks anymore. You are the Commander of the First Order, are you not? Or have you decided to return to a life of a grunt?’ 

Hux hastily intervenes. ‘Supreme Leader, the fault is mine. I confided in Commander Ren that we're severely deficient in available specialist units for the job. Many have been deployed to the outer zones, so this was a strategic decision assessed by me to allocate manpower resources elsewhere.’ He continued further with a tinge of bitterness, ‘It is _because_ of his presence that we're able to lead it as a three-man operation instead of the standard ten.’

Snoke seems to contemplate this. ‘Regardless, my protege is _not_ to join anymore assignments that exposes him needlessly. If their goal is to target him, he’s _only_ required for critical field operations.’ He leans back into his chair before continuing, ‘Let Sergeant Mitaka run with this, and he may take as many backup troops as he wishes, but this is _exactly_ why I need the recruitment process, Armitage. It infuriates me beyond belief that we do not have enough manpower for a simple supply run. Till you require your Commander to be the cushion for slipups.’

Ben's fist tightens. ‘Surely you don’t mean for me to hide while I let the ground troops take the hits? Those Resistance trash will never be able to—’

‘My word is final, my young Kylo Ren. They're replaceable, but _you_ however, are not.’ And Snoke’s tone is imperious, ‘Am I clear?’

***

Later that night, Ben stretches back with a cigarette into a booth with Hux at a sordid hotel bar, deep in the bowels of the underground network. After many years of careful strategy, the First Order now commands an iron stronghold across the underworld system. Ben does a quick scan to see at least seven First Order security officers patrolling outside the bar, with five sitting inside. Those who recognise him and Hux salutes as they pass by.

‘How painful was it—’ Ben lights his cigarette, ‘—to admit to the Supreme Leader that I'm equivalent to a small specialist division of troops?’

‘Fuck you,’ Hux spat. ‘It's our duty to give honest and impartial tactical assessments to him.’ And he shakes his head as he huffs, ‘On to more _important_ topics—regarding the spy. If you think it could be someone from the Resistance, it could basically be anyone then, and you needn’t kill those Weequays earlier today!’

‘Just let this fucking go—’ Ben groans, sliding a glass of whisky into Hux’s waiting hands.

‘Do you know how hard it is to find suppliers lately?’ Hux sneers. ‘It’s bad for commerce if nobody wants to supply us firearms anymore. For fear of getting blown away by the volatile Kylo Ren— _just_ because he didn’t like something they said!’

Ben exhales out a puff of smoke indifferently. ‘Oops.’

‘What’s the plan?’ Hux rolls his eyes. ‘Where'd you even start?’

‘I’m working on it. I’ve got a pretty good idea where the source might be,’ and Ben’s chews a piece of ice. ‘You remember those Rodians we brought onboard to supply us with grenades some months ago?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Well, they had to hold off supplies to us for a few weeks. They were raided by some Resistance guys and had to recruit more people to replace their losses.’

‘Yeah, so?’

‘ _So,_ you ignorant shit—’ Ben shakes his head in disbelief at the sluggish-minded Hux. 'We’ve not had any issues with our operations until _they_ came in. Since then, we’ve had four narrow misses with our shipments, not even counting today’s fuck-up.’

‘You think the mole is there?’

‘Maybe,’ and Ben tips back and finishes his glass. ‘I’m _quite_ sure the only other that knew about today’s transaction was them. They were looking to do a supply drop with us around the same time.’

‘Well, Godspeed. I’m moving out at the crack of dawn to start recruiting in Zones Four and Five.’ Hux swirls his drink before sighing, ‘And I’d like to knock myself out cold, so I can get some sleep in this dump, thank you very much.’

‘Who’s stopping you from returning to the command centre’s quarters to crash there? I’m only lodging here because the Rodians’ facility is around the corner.’

Hux wrinkles his nose. ‘I’m avoiding shit-eating smugness from those Mitaka ratted his fucking mouth to—that I was tied up by a girl.’

Ben snorted at his response. It wasn’t long before Hux started succumbing while Ben was still going strong. Hux was always an embarrassing weakling when it came to intoxicants, forcing Ben to direct two officers who were patrolling outside the bar to drag their wasted Captain Armitage Hux up the stairs to the dimly lit guest rooms.

‘Station yourself outside our quarters tonight,’ Ben orders. ‘And get someone to send up another bottle of whisky and grapes to mine.’ He shuts the door behind him, unhooks his shoulder holster and tosses it aside. He checks his watch.

 _There’s still some time_ , he thinks.

He lights another cigarette, quietly enjoying a fleeting moment of peace. He strips off his clothing—still the same from the earlier showdown and takes a shower. His hands drag over the foggy mirror, trimming his facial hair meticulously before drying off. He picks up his bag of his personal equipment, dropping it heavily on one of the chairs. He pulls over a fresh black shirt and his tactical vest over his shoulders before buckling up his pants and clipping on a small pouch to hold his smoke grenades. Laying out the firepower he brought on the desk, he contemplates on the weapon of choice he would use. He'll need to assess if the Rodians were unknowing about the Resistance spy in their ranks, or if they were blatantly feeding information. This wasn’t the first time one of their associates pledged allegiance to them, but were secretly loyal to the Resistance.

And their Supreme Leader has _always_ ensured any traitor to the First Order is dealt with accordingly.

Ben pulls back his gun slide to check the ammo levels. _Tsk, always having to clean up other people’s fuckups_ , he exhales in irritation, slamming in a magazine to reload.

A knock on the door comes.

‘Commander, there’s someone here delivering your request,’ the officer’s voice says. ‘Should I let her in?’

‘Go ahead,’ Ben responds without turning.

He hears his room door open and subsequently shut. The rattling of a tray is heard, settling it down onto the glass table by the couch. He shoves one of his guns into a separate holster by the waist before pulling out his knife from its leather sheath. Not many knew, but it holds a bitter, emotional value for him as it once belonged to a decorated Resistance hero—Han Solo.

An agonising memory Ben will take to his grave.

‘ _Damn—_ ’ he mutters, noticing some crusty stains on the tip. He places the handle carefully between his teeth, rummaging through his bag for a polisher.

Suddenly, he hears his room door locking from the inside. On instinct, he realises the server had not left the room. They had lingered _far_ _too long_ for it to be an accident, and now this individual has imprudently dared to lock themselves in here with him. He wasn’t unaccustomed with assassination attempts by the Resistance, and he whips around sharply, prepared to wrench the knife out of his mouth to strike a fatal throw—

But his body goes completely still.

A girl stands before him, clutching the whisky bottle in her hands. He studies her dolled up appearance in a long, glittery gown with a risqué slit running up her left thigh. She has soft, brown locks that curl around her shoulders and fierce eyeliner around her doe-eyes. Her hands and ears donned sparkling, decorative jewellery. She’s paler than most girls he notices, but she has fascinating specks of freckles dotted along her nose, forehead and cheeks. She didn’t look like any cocktail waitress he’d ever seen, and he’s definitely seen plenty.

He notices her bite her lower lip as she watches him back.

 _Oh my_ , he muses, feeling an unmistakable twitch in his pants.

* * *

Resistance Officer Rey Ridley takes in the sight of the notorious Commander Kylo Ren of the First Order looming before her with a blade clenched between his teeth. No doubt he’s a magnificent killing machine; impossibly large chest, broad shoulders and—even with her heels—he towers over her by at least a full head and shoulders. She swallows at the size of his biceps, perfectly fitted in the dark shirt underneath his vest.

 _Uh huh_ , she thinks. This definitely confirms that she has a thing for size.

He arches an eyebrow in amusement, his gaze sweeping her up and down. That gives her the confidence she needs. He likes what he’s seeing, and she's counting on that to her advantage. His fierce eyes narrow at her—which a little shamefully, brings a traitorous thump between her legs.

 _Remember your purpose,_ she warns herself. She holds his gaze back for a moment before breaking out into her most dazzling smile. ‘Sir, shall I open the bottle for you and serve a glass?’

A strange expression flickers over his face for a second that sends fear through her, but it disappears as quickly, returning to the same lascivious look when he nods slowly. He removes the knife from his mouth and firmly stabs it into the wooden desk, displaying it along with the rest of the obscene arsenal.

‘Ice?’ she asks him sweetly.

Kylo continues to move his head leisurely at her question, his eyes still glued to her. She starts to worry if he’s suspecting her, but she's certain he's never seen her before—

Well, at least, that’s what she assured Captain Poe Dameron back at the headquarters when he was initially against this operation. During their disgraceful failure today in the warehouse to capture Kylo Ren, she was fortunate enough not to encounter him in combat. She couldn’t say the same for her partner, Officer Finn Isaac, who's now shackled to their medical bay for at least a month with a broken nose, fractured arm, a swollen neck and a near-paralysed body from the stab wound in his back. The medical officer declares he'll recover as critical areas were undamaged, but he remains in a coma for an unforeseen period.

No doubt the brutal work of the villainous man before her.

She, on the other hand, would see holograms of Kylo Ren standing at the front of his troops in a terror fuelled propaganda message, scattered everywhere throughout the city and First Order controlled zones. Even while his vicious nature and aggressive tactics are renowned, she found herself drawn to the unusually striking Commander of the First Order. To be lost in his passionate focus and mischievous flicker in his eyes.

She knew it was fucked-up, but she's never been a nice girl. Not when she’s been trained to get a job done.

‘Why don’t you pour yourself one as well?’

His bass tone comes out so silkily, it startles her. His voice is intensely magnetic and she could feel herself starting to panic. This should be no different from any other high-tension operation she undertakes. She’s one of the best enforcers in the Resistance, or Poe wouldn’t have agreed to this suicide mission. 

‘I can’t drink on the job,’ she shoots back assertively. ‘The boss will fuck me up. If we let clients think they can bang wasted cocktail girls, no one would get served.’ 

‘I’ll take care of that for you.’ His mouth curls into an unnerving smile. ‘My, my, _my—_ you have quite a nasty little mouth, don’t you? I’d love to find out what other foul things I can make you say.’

Rey feels her blood spiking heat from his words, chastising herself to keep up with the charade until she can launch her attack. She’s still a long way from getting him vulnerable—not to mention the he has a bulletproof vest with a gun at his disposal. If any of the rumours about his lightning reflexes are true, she wouldn’t stand a chance.

Not yet.

Once she immobilises him, she’ll need to radio in for reinforcements that are waiting for her signal at least five zones away. This sector has always been under First Order control, so dragging him out of here alive, on her own—a man almost _twice_ her size no less, is near impossible. Her backup will have to sneak into the sector, take out the officers guarding his quarters, move him through the sewage systems and transport him back to Resistance safe zones. An unmanageable feat no less, now that she runs it through her mind again—

But this is a rare opportunity to catch Kylo Ren outside of the iron guarded command centre of the First Order. There is no way they could ever penetrate that fortress, even with a full-scale attack which previous attempts have ended with appalling results.

‘If you’re sure—’ she starts to say.

‘I’m sure.’

She gives in, dropping ice into two glasses and pours the whisky. As he crosses the room and settles at one end of the couch in front of her, she thinks of subtly dissolving a micro neutraliser pill into his drink, hidden in one of her bracelets, but he’s watching her too closely. When she reaches over the table to hand him the glass, he shakes his head in a reprimanding manner.

‘Come here,’ his voice dangerously low. ‘I want you to join me.’ He pats the space beside him, popping a couple of grapes into his mouth idly.

_God, his lips are so..._

Rey fidgets not to complete that thought. It’s almost as if he’s hypnotising her, because her body reacts to him before her mind can. She shamelessly sits close to him, gingerly crossing her left thigh over her right. The gown’s slit falls open precariously, exposing more of her skin to him and her knees clumsily bump into his, sending invisible currents up her spine. Kylo’s eyes flick to her visible thigh for a second before returning to her again, slowly resting a knuckle below his chin. His silent observation of her is sending her over the edge. He's dangerously unpredictable, and she's close to failing.

 _You’re dead, Rey,_ she whines internally. _And this is how you’re going to die—an amorous idiot._

When he finishes his first glass, he throws her look as her cue to follow. He’s cunning—she admits—to ensure he wasn’t going to get intoxicated alone. She had to move quickly, for she’s a complete light-weight and becoming inebriated is the easiest way to jeopardize her mission.

‘Tell me your name,’ he asks with false tenderness as she hands him his second glass. It was really more of a command.

‘What do you want it to be?’ she tries, but when he gives her an ominous smirk, she sighs, ‘It’s Kira.’ She'd rather burn in hell before she shares her real name. He's going to be locked up when this is over, so a little lie now wouldn’t hurt.

‘And how old are you?’

Rey slants her head. ‘Does it matter?’

His response is blunt. ‘I just want to know—when I’m finally inside you by the end of our little game—that I’m not fucking a _child_.' 

Rey flinches from the brazenness of his words. This man has some kind of unnatural grasp on her, it's completely bizarre. As she watches him tip back his liquor with ease, she whispers anxiously, ‘I just turned twenty.'

‘I assume you have a contraceptive implant?’ he licks his lips, pulling back the empty glass. ‘You should be aware all First Order zones offer that as a free health measure for any females who need it.’

While her face burns from the implication of his query, that knowledge came as a surprise to her. It wasn’t something the Resistance sectors had in place. Implants are generally costly and are only free to Resistance female troops and other working females in the zones. Anyone else would have to pay up credits to get it.

'Well?' he pushes.

‘Yes, I do...'

He nods, motioning his head to her glass. ‘Finish it.’

She's turning numb. After she drinks down her fifth glass, the warmth spread throughout her body, rising like a cloud into her mind. Kylo looks nowhere near as high as her. _How is he doing it?_ she wonders. She'd been following him since she caught wind of him entering the zone. She took the place of an absent cocktail waitress for the night and observed him, knowing that he's already finished an entire bottle with the red-head she gagged at the warehouse, and yet he’s _still_ solid. _No matter,_ she contemplates hazily. If anything, she'll use this chance to seek out any weaknesses of his, and she'll live to fight another day, finding mild comfort in thinking she may yet survive after all.

‘Still steady?’ he asks softly.

'Uh-huh...’

‘How do you feel?’

The heat is now pooling in her cheeks. She closes her eyes and tilts her head backwards, her hand curling around her neck. She takes a deep breath and sighs, running her fingers up and down her throat to ease the intensity of the liquor.

‘Um...’ she mumbles, slightly disoriented and gives him a coy smile. ‘Hungry?’

Without warning, she squeaks as Kylo drags her roughly onto his lap. He pushes her legs apart to straddle him, locking her in place with a strong arm around her waist while the other around her back. She mewls as he leans in to nuzzle against her neckline, his perfectly trimmed moustache and goatee tickles her delectably.

‘I want to feed you,’ he growls.

The pores all over her body prickle when she hears the low rumble from his chest drag out every single lecherous craving she’s ever wanted. She watches him place a grape between his teeth and lean up towards her. As if they are natural lovers—before she can even think straight—she wraps her lips around his. His tongue rolls to push the grape into her mouth, biting her lower lip as he pulls back. It was one of the most stimulating experiences she’s ever had, and he wasn’t even fucking her yet.

 _It must be the alcohol_ , she tells herself.

He watches her as she chews feebly on the fruit. After she swallows it, his lips are on hers again in a fervent kiss, surprising her when she feels how full his lips are—so comfortably plush and encircling around hers. He kisses her like no one ever has before, inhaling every gasp escaping between their mouths. She feels giddy from his taste; a mixture of mild tobacco, whisky and honey and she boldly curves her back towards him as his fingers trace over her breasts—

But when he moves a hand to slide up her visible left thigh, she plummets back into reality.

She has a tiny, concealed revolver pistol strapped to her thigh holster, far up her right leg that isn't exposed by the gown’s slit. If he finds it, it's all over. There’s no story she can conjure that will justify a harmless cocktail girl in a First Order stronghold requiring a concealed gun. In her fuzzy condition, she reaches down to slide her fingers gently past his crotch to distract him. He gives out a pleasing purr, letting her know he’s just as overwhelmed with need for her as well. Both his hands move down to her ass, snapping her centre towards him sharply. She squeezes her eyes shut as she feels something solid press against her through their clothes. He moves back to her neck, his tongue licking a trail up her skin and she fumbles against him in response, her body desperate for friction. His hands playfully help her, rocking her on top of him, grinding against each other.

 _So close, so close,_ she groans inside her head.

It’s spiralling out of control.

She’s livid—furious at herself for being so weak to something as trivial as physical needs, but the animalistic yearning Kylo is stirring within her is _so_ excruciating, she has to restrain herself from raking her fingers down his chest in a lust-driven passion. As he starts to work bruises along her throat with his lips, she laces one hand into his hair, pulling him closer. She moves the other hand down his vest. She’s going to go for it—the gun she spotted by his waist earlier. Her fingers brush against the grip that is poking out from the holster and she gently starts to drag it out, her heart pounding as it inches out slowly.

It's almost there—

But she’s still _far_ too slow, and a hand clamps firmly down on her wrist at an inhuman speed. While she halts in dread, Kylo does not. Fear crashes into her like bricks as he remains fixed at her neck, his lips continuing to graze her skin. He’s unnaturally calm, even with the knowledge that she’s out to get him

‘So feisty—’ he murmurs into her skin. 'But that’s how we survive in this world, isn’t it, _Officer Rey_?’

Her blood runs cold. He _knew_ who she was from the beginning, yet he played along, toying with her all this while. How he found out, she couldn’t fathom, but her enforcer-trained survival gears are instantly kicking in now. ‘Get your hands _off_ me,’ Rey whispers, the anxiety in her voice betraying her.

‘Why would I do that?’ and he leans up, kissing her mouth gently. ‘We’re not done yet.’

She shudders as his lips brush down her jawline, her mind now racing to escape or initiating a backup plan. ‘I’m here to bring you in, Kylo Ren. You’re coming with me.’

‘Oh yes, I will definitely _come_ with you,’ and he bites her earlobe. ‘Just not in the way you're asking.’

‘You’re going to _pay_ for what you did. For all the deaths and destruction you caused in the name of the First Order. For what you did to my partner.’

‘Am I not a nice enough guy? I chose not to kill him, when I could've.’

‘You’re a fucking monster,’ she swears, ‘You’ve been committing violent crimes against the Resistance and the free people since you assassinated our leadership in cold blood.’

‘Mm...’ he hums idly against her throat.

‘And you and your armies will fall,’ she stifles a moan against his moving tongue. ‘I will rip out _every_ information from your associates. To hunt you down at _every_ opportunity.’

Finally, that seems to make Kylo pause.

He slowly lifts his head to look up at her in amusement. ‘So— _you’re_ the Resistance spy I’ve been looking for. Thank you for making this easy for me,’ and he nuzzles the tip of her nose. ‘I’m curious as to how you’re moving so easily through our sectors. You’re a walking a security breach.’

‘I’ll die before I tell you.’

‘You can’t escape this zone. If you scream, it'll alert my troops and the entire precinct will be locked down faster than you can exit this door.’

And just like that, the trapped animal within her stretches out her claws.

She immediately forces every strength she has on her, elbowing him squarely against his chest. His grip on her falters slightly as he grunts. She pushes herself to fall backwards against the couch before tumbling onto the floor. As she scrambles against the carpet to get to her feet, Kylo grabs her at the ankles. She swiftly kicks back at him, her heels scratching his temple causing him to snarl angrily. Her adrenaline thunders as she attempts to pull up her dress to grab her revolver, but again, he’s too quick. He snatches her by the waist viciously, her limbs flailing helplessly as he pulls her off her knees and slams her backwards, knocking the wind out of her. She realises that none of her attempts are slowing him down—

It’s only making him angrier.

His forearm presses firmly on her throat, locking her against the wall, her head still spinning from the alcohol. She attempts to knee him in the groin, but his other palm crushes down painfully on her leg, blocking her efforts. She knows in terms of brute strength; she couldn’t win. She could already tell he wasn’t putting much effort into subduing her attacks—part of his continued attempts to play with her as she suspects. 

His voice is enraged. ‘Rey, I’m _warning_ you—'

She hates that he calls her by her name. As if they are so close. As if they already mean something to each other and he has every right to address her so intimately, but Rey is never one to give up so easily.

That wasn’t how she was trained.

That isn't in her nature.

She bites down hard on his exposed arm and he stumbles back slightly, surprised by her unsophisticated move. She flies at the opportunity to seize him by his shoulders and headbutts him hard. When he starts swaying, she launches a flying dropkick against his chest again, smashing him backwards. Landing on her back, she yanks up her dress to seize her weapon, gripping the revolver and rapidly lifts to aim.

A shot rings out.

A bullet bounds off the revolver which flies out of her hand and Rey cries out, the sheer force of it twists her wrists slightly. She freezes as she notices he has finally pulled his own gun at her.

‘I’m done being gentle. Stand the fuck _down_ ,’ he huffs, his tone now completely vicious.

She is breathless as well when she props herself up on her elbows to meet his stare. Her chest heaves up and down shakily, returning a resentful look. She's never going to give up without a fight. If this is the way she's meant to die, she’ll go down throwing the punches.

The officers outside must have finally heard the commotion as they banged at the door. ‘ _Commander—_ is everything alright in there?’ a trooper asks.

Kylo hesitates before responding, ‘All good—’ and he scowls at Rey. 'Just a little friendly tussle with my lady companion. You may take absence from being stationed at my door.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the officer’s voice answers, followed by shuffling of feet under the door.

Kylo leans back against the wall, pushing his hair from his forehead. His knuckle swipes to his temple and he looks down to see a smear of blood where she kicked him. ‘That actually hurts,' and he sounds wickedly entertained. ‘Very impressive.’

‘Good,’ Rey snaps as she rubs her wrists.

He goes to his bag and pulls out thick, heavy-duty handcuffs to throw at her feet. He gestures with his head wordlessly, signalling her to put it on. Pure dread is creeping back up into her. She had prepared herself for potentially not surviving if she failed, but when he’s forcing on shackles, it would trap her, something she wasn’t ready for. When she doesn't move, his eyes scorches against hers—

‘ _Now—_ ’ his jaw clenched. ‘I won’t say it again.’

Rey lifts herself up onto her knees, fits her hands through the rings before she snaps the cuffs shut. It still allows for slight movements, but she’s weakened now. She places her palms on her thighs and faces towards him, her face sulky and he returns an equally sullen glare. He finally places his gun back into his holster, moving across the room to pick up her tiny revolver and tucks it behind him. He stands over her, his impressive height covering her in shadow while he cups her chin and forces her to look at him. ‘These cuffs are powered, and can only be opened with a specific fingerprint of mine. The only way you’re getting out of those—is through me, or by _slicing_ those pretty little hands off. Both rather unpleasant, I'm afraid.’ 

She tugs her face away from him adamantly, choosing to stare at his feet instead.

‘So, how do we sort this out this little mess?’ he clicks his tongue. He drags the chair from the desk and twists it backwards, sitting astride it. He crosses his muscular arms on the top rail and rests his chin on it, observing her. 

Rey grits her teeth. ‘If you want to kill me, just do it already.'

Kylo lets out a stony chuckle. ‘I don’t want to _kill_ you. And believe me, if I wanted to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’ And his voice takes a sinister edge, ‘I can see you like playing games. Let’s play another one.’

‘No!’

‘A simple gun roulette using your revolver,’ and he rakes his fingers through his hair. ‘You’ll enjoy the outcomes you may get from this.’

‘You make me sick,’ Rey exclaims.

‘Why?’ and Kylo’s eyes hardened. ‘Because I don’t follow the sainted Resistance’s advocacy? They have their own agenda as well, they just conceal it better than we do. And I suppose it’s fair given the First Order controls the black market. Doesn’t really paint our cause well.’

He looks at her thoughtfully, ‘But you don’t seem like part of the flock. You’re a wolf,’ and he smirks, ‘Like me.’

‘I’ll never be like you. You’re a murderer and a—’

‘Did they tell you what happened?’ he cuts her off. ‘The night I killed your precious leaders. Did they tell you why?’

‘I know everything I need to know about you!’

‘You do?’ his voice was amused once more. She watches him tilt his head downwards, his eyes a bottomless void. ‘ _Ah_ , you do.’

His tone is melodiously mocking, as if she's a pitiful, sheltered child and unknowing to life’s savagery. She’s speechless for once, unable to counter his curious taunt. His mouth slightly opens, as if he's about to add on more, but he chooses to stay silent. He stands up, pulling her to her feet and leading them back to the couch where he pushes her shoulders to sit her down. He sits across her again and pulls her revolver out from behind him.

‘As I was saying,’ he continues lazily, ‘The game is simple. One bullet into the chamber, the cylinder spins and you aim the trigger at wherever you want to disable the other party. If the ammo didn’t reach the barrel, then the next round is you. And on it goes until someone gets blown away.’ He shrugs languidly. ‘Or if one of us voluntarily backs out.’

‘What’s the upside for me in this stupid game?’

‘If you win, I’ll go quietly with you, so you can be hailed a hero by your fanatical Resistance forces,’ he sneers slightly. ‘No one will stop or question us while we make our way out of this sector. I’ll tell my men to back off.' And he rolls his eyes before scoffing, ‘I assume you have a petty group of reinforcements on standby somewhere to help transport me out of here?’

Rey looks at him cynically. This feels like a dangerous trick. ‘The First Order won’t let their commander-in-chief just walk outta here and forfeit to the Resistance.’

‘ _Exactly_ why we need to do this—for appearances sake so it looks like you’ve tolerably apprehended me in some way. I've got a reputation to uphold.'

She didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. ‘There will still be suspicion when they see us trying to—’

‘You just let me worry about that,’ he dismisses her.

‘What’s in it for you?’

‘If I win...’ and Kylo breaks into a slow, chilling smile. ‘Well, then I win.’

An eerie silence falls between them as she grasps the euphemism behind those words. ‘Why do you want me that way?’ Rey whispers, ‘Why can’t you just kill me? You pay that same respect to others.’

‘You’re not like the others,’ and he leans forward, his long arm stretches out to trail a finger down her jawline. ‘And I have my ways to get you to submit to me.’ 

‘Assuming I’m still alive by the end of this deranged ploy of yours.’

‘You’ll survive.’

She shudders as he sweeps back her stray hairs, tucking it behind her ears. Now that her adrenaline is subsiding, her body's beginning to react to his touch once more. She swallows nervously as his thumb gently swipes across her bottom lip. It's tearing her apart; the tenderness he shows which starkly constrasts to the violence they shared earlier. His fingers cup her chin again, pulling her to look at him—

‘Shall we?’ he coaxes.

His hand picks up the revolver. He pops out the cylinder and empties all the bullets from the chamber except one, before spinning and snapping it back into place.

‘Ladies first,’ he says, sliding the weapon over to her. ‘Be kind to where you aim.’

Her hands shiver against the weighty cuffs as she slowly lifts the revolver, soothing herself as she targets his arm. She could still shoot accurately enough despite the restraints against her wrists. Poe didn’t give a shit if Kylo Ren was brought in dead or alive, but the Resistance’s most prominent high-command officer, Commander Luke Skywalker is insistent on Kylo Ren being held as a Resistance asset, believing they can interrogate First Order base schematics and tactical movements from him. She takes a slow, deep breath before she pulls the trigger—

It comes up empty.

‘Good,’ he says, absurdly in a praising tone as he takes back the revolver. ‘Would you prefer me to spin the cylinder again, or you’re happy for me to pull the trigger one more time?’

‘I don’t care—’ she says in a beaten voice.

She looks at him lift the gun towards her shoulder and her mouth goes dry, bracing herself for the probability of losing and her body goes rigid. She’s not sure if she imagined it, but a tentative look appears on his face that's normally blank of emotions—

Suddenly, he points the gun at an empty space instead, near the sole window in the room. She recoils in surprise as the gun fires, punching the bullet into the wall. _How did he know?_ she stares incredulously as he places the revolver back on the table. _Did he just spare me?_ Her eyes widen as his fingers slowly starts to undo his vest off him, setting it down beside the gun. 

‘And now you’re mine,’ he whispers. 

***

She winces as he reaches over to her waist, dragging her towards him once more. He breathes her in again between her breasts before tangling his fingers into her hair, drawing back her neck slowly to trail his mouth along her throat. Her cuffed hands awkwardly press in between them as his lips closes on hers. She attempts to hold him back, trying to come up for air from his demanding mouth—

But he is relentless.

Every time they break apart, his arms immediately ensnare around her again, crushing her back against him. She gives in to him—which she attributes it to a culmination of being alive, fighting a never-ending conflict and the intensity he makes her feel. He pushes her dress above her thighs, lifting her right leg to rip her holster off. He bunches up the lengths, exposing her nether regions and the sensation makes her shudder more than she should. As he unhooks her dress, allowing the straps to fall to her elbows, he inclines forward to give a playful bite on her bare shoulder. She’s blushing ridiculously now when he moves back to study her, the heat raging through her body. She hadn’t the most voluptuous of bodies. Granted, she’s been comparing it with the women that attracted the whimsical fancies of her fellow Resistance comrades—

But Kylo is looking at her with an unmistakable fire and she thinks she’ll spontaneously combust when his tongue traces his lower lip.

He shifts her onto his lap again, his thumb tracing circles around her protruding nipples, pinching and handling the top half of her figure with a desperate hunger. She gasps and arches her spine, feeling his lips surround her soft mounds, teeth grazing over her sensitive peaks and she cries out louder. The experience in his movements tells her that he’s no stranger to debauching. She’s mortified when he abruptly glances down at his pants to see a pooling stain. Unbeknownst to Rey, her warm slick has been seeping through her underwear, and the hairs on her neck tingles when he groans, moving down to shove her legs apart and his hefty palm grasps her centre, sensing her soft, but evident pulsation.

‘You feel that?’ his voice hoarse. ‘How much do you need me to fuck you?’

She shakes her head faintly, almost like a desperate plea to him, to allow her to keep whatever pride left before she succumbs to this—to _him_. Her stubbornness only seems to make him grip the heated spot harder, and she hears the sickening sound of a wet squelch.

‘ _Say it_ , Rey and I’ll take care of the rest.’

It’s a strange feeling to hear someone say those words. That they’ll _take care of it_. Growing up as a lonely orphan, she’s always fended for herself. She looked out for her own. The Resistance honed in on her independence and her resourcefulness, so it didn’t take long to be one of their youngest rising enforcers. She trained herself to accept that she came into this life alone _and_ she'll leave on her own as well, but she’d be lying if she said his words didn’t vibrate a profound sense of longing. She suppressed her isolation within her, smothering it with the numbing routine of being a soldier in this senseless struggle between two factions of power.

‘I’m waiting.’

‘ _Please—_ ’ her voice too quiet. ‘I need it.’

‘Need what?’

‘Need you to m-make me feel good,’ she stutters as she feels his finger mildly stroke her through the thin fabric.

‘Say it again, and use the right word.’

‘I—I need you—’ and she's almost bawling from the agonising pressure amid her legs, ‘—to fuck me.’

A choked cry leaves her lips as his hand pushes aside her panties so his fingers could enter her sharply. She wishes he will kiss her again, so she can conceal her expressions. So that she can bury her wails behind his punishing mouth, and she wouldn’t have to see him watch her as she shamelessly rolls her hips against his hands to bring herself higher—

But that’s exactly what Kylo does.

He observes her body’s feverish reaction while he draws out the waves of pleasure from her, and she’s about to die from the sheer level of intensity. From the way his fingers twist into her coarsely. Or by how he sucks at a nipple while his free hand massages the other breast. She whines when he abruptly shifts her off him. With his fingers still inside her, he kneels down to nip along the insides of her thighs as his facial hair brushes against her soft skin. She tilts her neck backwards as his tongue firmly laps against her warm centre, his fingers continuing to curl and her moans shatter uncontrollably through her gasps. Her legs are frantic to wrap around him, but he pushes them wider, pinning her in place. She's had others go down on her before—

But not like this.

Not in the way Kylo is doing for her. The way his lips drag against her sensitive folds. The manner his tongue consumes her inner walls, like he's drinking and feasting on every part of her.

‘Are you gonna come for me?’ he growls.

‘Yes— _please_ —I’m close, so close,’ she hears her own incoherent babbles.

She’s nearly drained of her rational senses that she actually _snarls_ at him in rage when he rears back, withdrawing his fingers. Her body is shaking as he gathers her into his arms, carrying her to bed. Her hands are still ludicrously cuffed together, lying against her chest as he holds her. Within seconds of hitting the mattress, his powerful arms rip through her gown straps, wrenching the dress down her legs. His eyes darken at the long trail of her slick sticking to the fabric of the underwear he's discarding. Rey could only dread how long more he'll continue teasing at her body’s inability to defy him.

It's like he can't get enough of the sight of her. His eyes sweep over her as she lay against the sheets, watching her breasts rise and fall and her flushed skin. As he looks at her unclothed, still restrained by the cuffs, she sees the stretch of his pants against his immense erection. She’s red everywhere—all over her cheeks, neckline and down to her chest he discoloured only moments ago.

She scowls. ‘ _Stop_ looking at me that way.’

His eyes remain on her while his fingers work to unbuckle his pants, tugging his shirt above his head. She could only stare back, transfixed by his muscles and chiselled torso, and she's close to ogling—resigning to the forbidden fact that Kylo Ren of the First Order is actually, _very—_

She refuses to finish the thought. ‘Why is _that_ still there?’ she demands, referencing his boxers that stayed on.

He actually chuckles and goosebumps flare all over her skin as his body hovers over her. ‘I want to enjoy you. Hasn’t anyone ever made you feel like they're enjoying you?’ His tall nose nudges against her own. ‘Didn’t they show you how good your body feels? How incredible you taste?’ And his hand slips under her waist. ‘Or how fuckable you are?’ 

The questions seem rhetorical, because he doesn’t wait for an answer, flipping her on her front. He moves forward, his enormous physique overwhelm hers and she shudders as his breath tickles her cheeks.

'Or I could just teach you some manners,’ and his tongue licks her ear. ‘And make you scream.’

She groans, feeling the size of his length press against her spine, her imagination telling her he'll split her in half. 

‘Tell me what you want me to do to you, Rey,’ he murmurs. His palm circles around her curved haunches. ‘I like hearing you say it.’

‘I—I want all of it,’ she’s out of her mind. ‘ _Please—_ just do it. Take all of it.’

She thinks he must have been extremely restrained as well, because he’s on her within seconds. _It’s just sex_ , she tells herself, _it doesn’t mean anything._ _I can screw him and it says nothing about my allegiance._ She hears a rustle of fabric and sees he's discarded his final piece of clothing. _I_ _can separate fucking him from my emotions_ , she stubbornly decides as he wrenches her onto her knees, his fingers digging into her hips to position her. _It’s nothing but a fleeting biological, chemical reaction._

And finally—

She cries out in almost agonising relief as he enters her from behind in one slow, punishing stroke. He doesn’t give her time to adjust to the discomfort, pushing all the way in as her walls yield to accommodate his excruciating size.

 _It won’t fit, it won’t fit, it won’t fit!_ she wants to scream. But he somehow does, and she feels him eventually bottom out. Her body is begging to keel forward from the intensity, but he doesn’t allow it, holding her firmly in place as her body trembles to familiarise with this foreign feeling of him. She wriggles and whines against his grasp while her fingers clutch the bedsheets in anticipation. For a moment, he stays extremely still, like he’s on the brink of his own composure with their bodies joined to the hilt. She hears him through her own mewling, taking deep, shaky breaths through his chest.

At last, he leans to whisper in her ear, ‘Ready?’

When he starts fucking her into the mattress, she thinks she’ll _never_ be ready. The sounds escaping from her climbs higher until she’s almost shrieking. She feels so complete—so filled—so perfect. He moves ruthlessly as she expected, with the way he pulls out and slams back into her with a certain kind of dominance she thought she’d be repulsed by, but strangely isn’t. That her body is eventually pushed forward on the bed till the cuffs finally clink against the headboard. When he leans down to roughly squeeze her breasts from behind, he grunts lewd promises into her ears.

_How he’ll make her never walk again._

_How he’ll fuck her so hard that she’ll rip apart._

_How she’ll never want anyone else inside of her except him._

She arches her back as he hits something deeply within her, almost as if her stomach was about to fall through her throat from his sheer breadth. When she starts to rock her hips back against him, desperate to meet his movements in attempt to fall off the edge, his hand presses down on her back.

‘Don’t do that,’ his breathing ragged. ‘I won’t last long.’

She winces when she feels him pull out, pushing her down flat and turns her onto her back. He pushes her knees towards her breasts, carrying her legs over his shoulder before sliding back in to start the invasive plundering again. She squeezes her eyes shut from the fervour of the new angle, bunching the edges of a pillow in her fingers. _God, he feels too good, this is—_ her thoughts swim. _I can’t stop—I won’t stop._

‘H-harder,’ she hears herself gasp through the explicit creaking of the bed that follows his harsh pacing. The crude slapping sounds of their skin filling the room has surprisingly _quite_ an effect on her.

‘No. Open your eyes,’ he pants. ‘I want you to watch me fuck you. So you’ll remember I made you feel like this.'

There's something about the obscenity that he says which burns an unexpected, feverish demand inside of her for more. She wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but her own experiences about sex are rather perfunctory— something she surmised as a hastened activity that she caves into for numbing the horrors of death and bitter victories. She's never needed anyone like this, but here she was now, needing more of _him_ —

The way his obsidian eyes glares into hers with a savage need.

The evident tension across his glorious muscles.

His slightly bared teeth and the sweat beads forming on his forehead as he snaps his hips between her legs.

She’s _very_ close now, and as if he could sense her thoughts, he slows just enough to unhitch her calves from resting around his collarbone, settling himself back between her thighs. She should feel trapped once more with his entire body pinning her down, but she’s withdrawn into a very feral and dark space with him.

His voice is oddly strained as he rests his lips against her damp forehead. ‘Can’t control it anymore,’ and she shivers beneath him with a carnal thrill of hearing that. ‘I don’t know what it is about you, but I _need_ to have—' and he interposes each word with a deep thrust. ‘Every. Single. Piece. Of. You.’

Her eyes flutter close when he leans in to give her a long, messy kiss, and her toes curl from how intimate it is. He grabs her cuffed hands and pushes it over her head, holding it down with one palm while the other bruises into waist. After burying his face into her neck—when he starts to move again—he crashes into her with such aggression that it doesn’t take long for him to hit the spot she's been needing, and he forcefully rips out the climax from her body, just like the destructive conqueror he is—

—and finally, Rey feels her orgasm slam into her _so_ intensely that her entire body feels like its soaring. Her legs fasten around his rump, pushing him down harder onto her. She has no inhibitions any longer when she screams—which is the hardest she’s ever had in sex—as her walls clamp fiercely down around his length. He responds equally with a muffled, primal roar of vulgarities into her shoulder while spilling inside her.

She’s still gasping from their bodies tangling with one another when he collapses on her, their hearts racing, the sweat and slick all over them and the surrounding mattress. She looks at him in a dazed bewilderment as he peppers kisses all over her face while their emotions slowly descend.

When he removes himself from her, she feels weirdly cold and bereft without him, even as their offensive amounts of fluids start seeping along her thighs. She's in such a delirious state that she doesn’t register immediately when he presses a finger to the cuffs, and there's a short beeping noise before the metal rings fall open. He lightly lifts her hands back down to rest on her abdomen before getting his boxers. _You have to get the fuck out of here, Rey,_ her mind whispers urgently—

But when he settles back on the bed, he pulls the covers over them, holding her tiny wrists to massage the marks that are starting to appear. She feels anxious from his sudden display of affection, but she's so spent that her eyelids are starting to feel heavy.

‘Do they still hurt?’ he asks after a brief moment of silence, his thumb still kneading against the abrasions.

‘As with the rest of my body?’ she mumbles, ‘Yes. No thanks to you.’ 

‘I can’t say much about the soreness,’ he says plainly. ‘But I won’t use the restraints next time.’ And he presses his mouth to her cheek, bizarrely apologetic. ‘Was just a little pissed off.’

 _Next time?_ she hazily catches. Her chest tightens in confusion against her own emotions for him, tensing when he lifts her towards him, and he continues to kiss her for what seems to be an infinite period of time—until her body goes soft in his arms and her toes turn numb again.

His knuckle caresses her jawline soothingly, murmuring between their lips, ‘Go to sleep.’

She usually recoils after sex, immediately feeling the need to leave after the libido wears off, but that nature is strangely absent with Kylo. She shakes her head obstinately, her survival instincts fighting to stay alert so she can bolt out the room now—

But he feels too comfortable.

Too warm.

And Rey loses the battle with herself, floating into an exhausted rest within his embrace. 

* * *

Ben generally doesn’t need much sleep to function.

He can’t remember the last time he needed it to recuperate his body. His brain is _always_ running, scratching at the edges of his inner tranquillity even when he attempts to close his eyes. His consciousness will continuously run through command data, tactical reports and governance updates from the sector leads. Piecing them together to see how they were lacking, or where they are succeeding.

And each time he looks into the darkness of his mind, he sees Han Solo as well.

 _Kid,_ he would say with his hands on his hips. _What the hell are you doing?_

Ben never responds. He doesn’t have it in him to acknowledge the memory of his late father. The sentiment he felt for what Han Solo would think of him—if he saw who Ben is today—it's a weakness that Snoke ensured was locked away in the recess of his mind. Instead, he taught Ben how to channel the rage, the betrayal and the taste for vengeance. Despite his blinding fury, Ben always feels cold. Even when he rouses from a nightmare of his father, a chill would run down his spine. It drives him to make his body burn through anger. To get his blood pumping from vigorous training sessions and brutal combats methods. To feel the inferno within his veins when he’s victorious in growing the Supreme Leader’s dominion—

But unexpectedly, in the midst of his wretched, violent life, he finds someone who lures that warmth from him without any warfare aspects.

This tactless, wild and beautiful Resistance fighter who kicked him in the head—something surely his own mother still desires the honour of doing—set every cell within him ablaze as something dark and wicked ignites inside him to come out and play with her.

He wanted to see the Resistance scums bleed. For daring to break into the First Order’s carefully constructed network of allies. To arrogantly attempt _another_ assassination on his life because of their failure to beat him and his troops out on the battlefield. And sending _her_ to seduce him and finish the job. While he’d admit she held her own against him, if she wanted to lead him into temptation, he _will_ allow this game to unfold with her. If he had to kill her to defend himself, then so be it.

He must confess that it began as a primitive need of her flesh. That he was going to fuck her no matter her defiance. That he’ll wreck her as much as he needed for his insatiable hunger—

But somewhere along the way, it started to twist into something else.

He prides himself for being able to fuck for hours, so it alarms him the way she makes him lose control _too_ easily, but there's no cause for his humiliation while she flushes, cries and trembles beneath him. And when he tells her he can’t resist from shattering anymore, she almost welcomes it. He came hard at the end—probably the hardest he’s had in his life, but he can’t seem to remember how those that happened before felt like. It wasn’t just because she’s insanely beautiful, but watching her eyes trickle cathartic tears as she looks back at him, he concedes to an urge to nurse her back with a tenderness that should have been long forgotten. So, when Ben does drift off into the unfamiliar act of a deep slumber, first time in a long time, he might be forgiven for not stirring awake when she does—

But Ben didn’t emerge as the undisputed Commander of the First Order without reason, for the reflexes that have been perfected for years will eventually kick in, and he _finally_ cracks an eye open when he senses something amiss. 

His back leans against the headboard while he inclines his face upwards to see Rey, straddling his waist with her revolver pointing directly at him. She’s wearing his shirt, which drapes over her tiny body, and he concludes he's never seen anyone look so enticing in his clothes. She must have quietly snuck around while he was still out cold. _And this is exactly why you should never fucking sleep,_ Ben chastises himself.

‘I thought we’re past this already?’ he says, unbothered as he yawns groggily.

Her expression falls back to the same, feral soldier he attempted to subdue when she realised that he knew her identity. And _of course_ he would—he'd recognise that pretty voice of hers even through a storm.

‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right now,’ she says, but he hears the fragility in her tone. ‘I’d be doing the Resistance and everyone else a favour.’

‘Is that so?’ he responds, mildly amused.

‘You’re delusional,’ she grits her teeth.

‘If you wanted to waste me, you would've already,’ and his eyes focus on hers. ‘It’s no secret that the Resistance wants me alive.’

‘Not everyone feels the same way.’

He tilts his head. ‘Did they tell you what happened that night?’

‘ _Yes!_ ’ she hisses.

‘ _No—_ ’ he could feel his mouth curl into a smirk. ‘And why would they? Why tell the Resistance grunts and the public the truth about what really occurred other than the First Order brutally massacring their command team in mindless attack—only for it to taint their very foundations of the age-old good versus evil agenda. Your valued leaders have many buried secrets, Rey.’ His eyes flash with a quiet anger—

‘And _I_ am one of them.’

There is a deathly silence that falls on them for a moment as neither of them move.

Finally, Rey utters softly, ‘Liar.’

‘I’ve never lied to you, and there's no reason for me to. I’ve always made my intentions known, even when you presented yourself with a fabricated identity to deceive me.’

She cocks back the revolver hammer angrily. ‘I’m fucking _sick_ of your games, Kylo Ren. Decide now if you’re going to follow me quietly!’

Ben keeps still for a moment, contemplating on his next move. He knew he had her on edge, but he wasn’t going to take the risk, in case she really _did_ try to shoot him. He may be quick, but he wasn’t invincible. ‘No—’ he decides unwaveringly, watching her inhale deeply before using her thumb to twist against one of the rings on her free hand. The ring reveals a small needle, which he suspects is likely laced with neutralising solution, and he glares at her. ‘Is that _really_ necessary? This won’t hold me back long enough for your reinforcements to come and aid you—assuming they don’t get gunned down by my boys first.’

‘I’m not bringing you with me,’ she answers. ‘My mission failed, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to get away from you.’

Ben’s skin starts to prickle hot. ‘You can’t hide, Rey. Not from me.’

‘I know—’ she whispers. 'But it’s my nature to never surrender.’

‘As is mine.’

And Rey leans in, pressing the cold metal barrel of the revolver against his bare chest. His eyes shut in surprise as she gives him a slow, passionate kiss, murmuring between their lips, ‘This changes nothing, but I won’t deny the way you make me feel.’

Ben flinches as he feels a vivid, fleeting stab of something sharp in his neck. The solution works quickly through his body, spreading like wildfire through his veins. He starts to glide in an out of consciousness with his muscles becoming numb and his vision blurring. He knows his level of endurance for assaults such as this, so he gauges the maximum he’ll be paralysed is only a few minutes tops, but...

By the time he breaks into his senses again, he’s alone.

***

Ben hunches over an examination chair in the command centre’s medical bay.

He grudgingly allows the personnel to extract a sample of his blood while a robotic arm patches up the crusty wound on his temple. He initially snarls when they try attempt to place a healing patch for the bruise on his chest. No doubt from Rey’s flying kicks, but he thinks it’s because he _quite_ likes the idea of displaying the contusions she gave.

‘The dose I’ve given will slowly flush out the neutraliser from your system. You should return to fully functional by the next hour,’ and the medical officer looks up from his clipboard. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with, Commander Ren?’

Ben grunts and waves his hand dismissively. ‘No, are you finished then?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Within seconds, Ben is storming through the colossal hallways of their headquarters, a dark cloud looming over his head. His troops immediately sense their commanding officer’s menacing mood and promptly scamper out of the way, or—for those who weren’t fortunate to be distant enough—hastily stand at attention to salute. He doesn’t take heed to any of them. He has only one thing on his mind.

He bursts into his private quarters and pulls up his datapad, opening up various different screens of information to project around him. He scans at a lightning pace through hundreds of old records, the mainframe scrolling past numerous identity registrations under the First Order zones and flipping through decades of historical events. His eyes enlarge with realisation as his brain impressively pieces together answers to his questions. He presses a knuckle to his mouth as he squints at the screens.

Even if Rey wanted to misrepresent her identity to him, there is one particular _marker_ she wouldn’t be able to. The fact that she could move between Resistance and First Order sectors without getting detected, or how easily she was able to track him down on his own territory could only mean very few things. 

‘Run a search for held registered female births in _all_ First Order zones. Past and present,’ he orders the AI mechanism. ‘Subject is estimated to currently be between the ages of twenty to twenty-five.’

> **_Kindly state any known physical traits to narrow search results._ **

‘Brown hair, hazel eyes.’

> **_Kindly state all possible aliases to narrow search results._ **

He frowns before cautiously saying, ‘Assumed first name; Rey.’

The screen brightens as it generates up a list of potentials that fit the description and variables inputted. As his finger slides the display downwards, he catches the indicator flashing on a match with the highest probability. There’s no photo on the profile, but Ben knows he has found what he’s looking for. 

> **[SUBJECT IDENTIFICATION] –** REY RIDLEY
> 
> **[SUBJECT ESTIMATED PRESENT AGE] –** 20
> 
> **[SUBJECT REGISTRATION] –** INITIAL BIRTH LODGEMENT FILED UNDER FORMERLY HELD ZONE 15. JAKKU SECTOR. SCRAP METAL DIVISION. THIS SPECIFIED ZONE IS NOW KNOWN AS RESISTANCE ZONE 35
> 
> **[SUBJECT KNOWN FAMILY OR ASSOCIATES] –** REPORTED AS DECEASED DURING THE PURGE OF JAKKU
> 
> **[SUBJECT CURRENT STATUS] –** UNKNOWN. LIKELY DECEASED

‘Commence diagnostics on subject’s identifier chip model,’ Ben probes further.

> **_Registered identifier chip for subject is Model ABY with Batch No. 10-04-1992._ **

‘Confirm current status of subject’s chip.’

> **_Status confirmed. Active._ **

‘ _So—_ that’s how she’s doing it,’ Ben muses to himself aloud. ‘She has an old First Order zone identifier chip. It'll definitely hold security clearance codes that are still accepted at our checkpoints.’ And he taps his finger against his lips. ‘Very, _very_ clever, little Rey.’

His eyes flicker towards the last line in her profile, declaring her possible demise. ‘I wonder—does everyone in the Resistance know who you _really_ are?’

* * *

‘What the hell happened out there?’ Poe slams his hands on the table in the control room of the Resistance Headquarters. ‘I gave you less than six hours to get the division to extract Kylo Ren and yourself out, but you went MIA for almost _twelve_. We thought you were dead!’

Rey swallows, but keeps her face steady. ‘I was compromised, Captain. Needed to disengage and lay low. They locked down the zone. Had to wait till it was clear to move.’

‘What went wrong?’ 

‘I—I think we underestimated his deduction skills.’

‘Meaning?’

‘He knew who I was.’

‘You gave me your _assurance_ he didn’t see you at the warehouse!’

‘I’m not clear on _how_ it happened, but somehow he discovered my identity as a Resistance enforcer.’

‘How'd you bolt?’

It was a true test to herself to remain calm as she lied right to her superior’s face. The debrief with Poe was a complete disaster. There was no way in hell she could explain what had happened. How she basically spent hours in Kylo Ren’s bed instead of detaining him—escaping with only her heels, revolver and his shirt while she ducked back into her quarters at the Rodians’ facility to clear out and run. Now that Kylo has identified her, her cover with them will eventually be exposed.

‘I—’ she paused, ‘—managed to spike his drink with a neutraliser pill to buy me some time to get out.’

Poe’s face darkens. ‘You guys were getting _drunk_ together?’ 

Rey fidgets. ‘ _No._ I went undercover as a cocktail server in the hotel premise they were at, and I was in charge of serving his group for the night.’

‘What about the rest of his party?’

‘They were out cold by the time I made my move.’

Poe straightens back up, his hands relaxing slightly by his side. ‘I _knew_ it was too dangerous to send you alone. Should have just listened to my gut!’ And he grumbles further, ‘Since Kylo Ren has seen you, you’re to be removed from all incognito initiatives. We’ll send in others to continue what you’ve built on.’

‘No offence, Captain, but it’s not that simple,’ Rey grits her teeth. ‘They don’t know their way around the First Order sectors like I do.’

‘Yeah,’ Poe frowns. ‘About that—why is that exactly? What’s so special about you, that you can easily maneuver through their zones? I've no qualms any of my team can infiltrate through the sewage system for a covert mission. Just as the First Order can infiltrate into our zones the same way. That’s just how the original metropolis blueprints for the foundations were done before the conflict, but we can _never_ get past their checkpoints and patrols. Like they can’t for ours, so how are _you_ managing to stay within their turf without getting detected?’

 _Here we go_ , Rey thinks.

Poe has always been this way. Hot-headed, apprehensive and intrusive of everything and _everyone,_ and sometimes that included being suspicious of his own people. Before Rey could snap back something witty, the door bursts open and Sergeant Zorii Bliss barges in, her gleaming red and gold uniform sparkling against the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room as she flips up the dark lens of her helmet to reveal hysterical eyes.

‘Captain, my apologies to intrude, but we’ve just received a transmission from one of our outer zone outposts. It’s Wexley—they're pinned down by the First Order. They won’t hold out much longer.’

‘Pull out all the troops we have in this sector,’ and Poe hastily clicks on his earpiece to fire up some calls. ‘I want everyone in the strategy room in twenty.'

***

Rey sluggishly makes her way down the dimly lit corridors of the headquarter premise.

She yawns, rubbing her neck as she pushes open the medical bay doors. She's exhausted, both mentally and physically. When she returned to the headquarters in the morning, Poe was out for spot-checks in several zones, so it was almost night again when she reported back to him.

After stripping down to an evaluation gown, she sits on one of the empty beds while waiting to be attended. She glances to the connecting doors that led to the critical care units—where Finn would be. Her stomach twists with guilt, and she coughs awkwardly to ease it. She knew she had been driven by rage. Always jumping the gun based on her impulses, but she was so devastated by failing to come to Finn’s aid at the warehouse that she was ravenous for payback. Something that the Resistance would look at disapprovingly.

The taste for vengeance. _That’s a First Order trait_ , they would say.

As the medical officer conducts the check-up, she raises an eyebrow at the odd discolorations all over Rey’s body; the grazes around her wrists, the mauve bruises and red bite marks that are distinctly from someone’s mouth. Rey turns a shade of pink, shaking her head irritably when she’s asked if further examination or intensive healing balms are required.

Rey wonders grumpily what she accomplished in the last twenty-four hours, other than indulging in her worst desires with Kylo Ren. She knew she had unhealthy coping mechanisms, but sleeping with the enemy _really_ is the unnecessary accolade she needed to top her stellar Resistance service. What hurts her the most was what she lost. With Poe withholding her capacity to undertake mole assignments—something she particularly excelled at since she started her career with the Resistance, she felt inadequate because she's never liked working with the wider troops. Sure, she could banter and smack talk with her cohorts. She wasn’t a complete social disaster—

But it stops there. She doesn’t gravitate to form any meaningful relationships. _Why bother when tomorrow we could all be dead from a routine raid anyway?_ she thinks.

Finn may have been the one exception. He is kinder than most in looking out for others, courageous and she appreciated the camaraderie they share as partners. She could see him becoming a great leader one day. And there was another—Jessika Pava, an old acquaintance from her orphanage days who used to take care of her. She’s seven years older than Rey, and often visited the shelter to lend a hand to the caretakers. She was once like Rey, a young Resistance Officer, but a well-placed gunshot injury she sustained during a prisoner transfer a few years ago forced her to retire from field duty. She now serves in the Resistance’s tech division.

Rey thinks her nature emanates from growing up without a family. No one to care with what happens with her. No obligation to answer to anyone. And because of that, she’s always functioned better on lone tasks. It’s no secret the Resistance’s biggest source of manpower comes from taking in orphans and homeless children. They are given a chance to serve justice, protect the innocents and put meaning to their life. That’s the story they were sold.

She just wanted someone to be sorry. To be held accountable for all the lives they’ve lost. To bear the burden of the disillusionment in this ongoing war between the Resistance and the First Order. Everyone is tired of all the hostility. She could see it, even if Poe couldn’t—

But Poe's been suspecting for a long time now that one of his top officers has something to hide.

And it's true, that Rey has been harbouring a secret of her own. She could move between the two factions’ zones with ease because her identifier chip had malfunctioned and could somehow erroneously be cleared at both checkpoints. At least, that’s what her silent guardian, Resistance Commander Luke Skywalker, the man who found her and gave her shelter, told her. As spies and defectors are everywhere—no organisation is free from this—Luke made sure this flaw in her chip remains hidden to ensure her safety. He says it’s rare to have this defect, but not impossible to happen.

Rey has very little recollections of her childhood, but she has dreams of before. She sees a night where fire lit across the sky and the warning sirens blare through the public speakers, signalling the zone is under attack. She remembers a woman’s voice telling her to stay silent while she’s hidden away behind sacks of grains. There are sounds of gun fire and terrifying screams ringing through the darkness.

‘I’ll come back for you sweetheart,’ the woman whispers to her. ‘I promise.’

Each time the dream ends, Rey is still alone. No one comes back for her. 

Luke tells her the dream is a fragment of her memories. He was just a young Resistance Sergeant with a small team of officers when the incident happened. Rey was only five when he found her being assailed by First Order troops who were part of a violent ground assault that stormed a neutral zone. By the time a Resistance response team arrived, the carnage on the inhabitants was irrevocable, including Rey’s parents. As the zone was completely invaded by the First Order, she could never return home. Until a sector falls under their administration, neutral zone data never feeds automatically into Resistance mainframes, therefore Rey was never able to retrieve any information about her family. And so, they too eventually passed on to shadows, as faceless ghosts in a bloodshed history.

In some ways, Rey's path was already chosen. Was there any other way, except to serve a group who fights to uphold righteousness, law and protecting the free-will of the people against the terror-driven First Order? 

But there was something about what Kylo Ren said to her that has been troubling her mind—

A secret buried by the Resistance’s leadership.

***

Poe clicks his prompter and an enormous screen fills the front of the strategy room from wall-to-wall. A surveillance video feed plays out showing burning buildings, gunfire and troops from both sides of the conflict clashing among the open rubble. Above the background noises, they could hear the device communicators bellowing to the Resistance division to retreat back to safer ground.

‘Team—this feed was taken exactly two hours ago today at Wexley’s division. The last I heard, it’s almost fully overrun by the First Order.’ And Poe inhales deeply before saying, ‘I cannot stress further how essential it is _not_ to lose this outpost.' He points against the display map of the various sectors. ‘This is a strategic waypoint between six neutral zones and one of our resource stations. If this garrison falls to the enemy, they'll take control of that resource, and those six zones will be vulnerable to invasion.’

The display now flashes open a surveillance photo of a towering Kylo Ren. He has his black tactical vest on again, flanked by at least ten other First Order officers in a rooftop premise from where he was gauging the battleground. A large, automatic rifle is hoisted over his shoulder while his unnervingly intense eyes are focusing on something off-camera. The very same eyes that razed her to her knees last night. While Rey instinctively glowers at the image from the hatred at what he represents, she already feels her heart starting to race. The effect he has on her is rather profound as a familiar warm, pressure starts to spread between her legs while her mind claws back into the memories of him ripping both pain and pleasure through her body. She’s still very much sore between her thighs, but she’d never admit to that. She chews on her lower lip while replaying in her head his raspy growl as he came inside her.

At more than six feet tall with powerful arms and legs, the atmosphere surrounding her comrades as they take in his intimidating exterior is only one thing—

Fear.

‘As observed, the First Order has sent their commander to personally lead this assault,’ Poe’s voice cuts through the uneasy silence. ‘So—we can assume they're coming at us with full force, and they are not looking to lose.’ He lifts up his hands, ‘We all know what is at stake here. We _must_ use this opportunity to capture him at all cost. Smaller operations have been running for some time to try and nab this guy when he’s vulnerable, but _clearly_ we haven’t been successful.’

Rey feels the slight sting of his words.

Poe exhales heavily. ‘Everyone in this room has lost someone in this conflict, and some even by the very hands of this asshole.’

Rey follows Poe’s gaze to a despondent looking petite girl, sitting in the middle row with her jet-black hair tied up into a ponytail. Rey has never been introduced before, but she knows from Jessika that she is Rose Tico—Finn’s fiancé, who is one of the leading officers of the Resistance’s tech division. Her stomach churns with remorse once more as she recalls the announcement of their marriage being postponed indefinitely due to Finn’s vegetative state.

‘Before we move to discuss the recent upgrades we’ve made on our ammo, let’s have a bit of a history refresh,’ Poe rubs his neck. ‘As Commander Skywalker always tells us, it's important to know the opponent. So, what do we know about this genocidal fucker?’

The prompter beeps again, moving the display to an old video feed taken of Commander Gial Ackbar, Commander Amilyn Holdo and Commander Mon Mothma entering an armoured vehicle.

‘This video was only shown to high-command, so this is the first time we're releasing this to the wider Resistance troops. For those of you newer cadets, know your basics. The First Order is a major criminal-terrorist organisation founded by a small-time crime boss only known as Snoke. What initially began as just a relatively obscure disruptor to our system, has now become a formidable empire of the underworld. They have gained significant allies and many zones they invaded have started rallying around their cause. No doubt due to their fanatical brainwashing and propaganda tactics.’

Rey finds herself thinking back to something Kylo told her—about providing free contraceptive implants to all females in the First Order zones, and shakes her head to brush off the uneasiness of Poe’s words.

‘We first discovered the existence of this nutjob ten years ago when he was captured in a security footage assassinating our commanding team during their attendance at a rally. We still don’t know how he managed to get past our security lines, but we lost three courageous leaders that day.’

The video bursts into a violent flash of light as the vehicle explodes into flames. The security feed flickers once again before it zooms in at two figures. As the camera starts to focus, they could see that Commander Ackbar initially survived the blast, but was severely injured with his broken body sprawled by the sidewalk. There's a figure looming over him—and Rey will recognise that menacing shadow _anywhere—_ who raised a gun to Commander Ackbar’s head, savagely shooting him dead. As a demonstration to his infamous viciousness, the assailant continued to punch a couple more bullets into Commander Ackbar’s lifeless body before he finally halts.

The entire room goes deadly still as the attacker slowly turns to look directly at the camera. His face is partially covered by a black camouflage mask, and she watches him lift his gun slowly, aiming it towards the camera before it cuts out.

‘Back then, we had zero intel on who he was. Only that he carried out the mission alone and is extremely dangerous. Moving forward to five years ago,’ and the screen flicks to an image of an older man with orange-grey hair and blue eyes. ‘When a few of our tactical squads were successful in taking back some of the inner zones, we were told that Moden Canady—the First Order’s _then_ Commander—was confirmed dead in the assault. We thought victory was near when we killed off their high-command.’

Poe suddenly shifts, his posture looking slightly drawn. ‘You should know the rest, because shortly after, thousands of holograms started to broadcast illegally through the network. A new First Order leader was elected, and we _finally_ had a name for that lunatic,’ and Poe’s eyes hardened. ‘ _Kylo Ren_.’

Behind Poe, the screen froze to the infamous First Order propaganda hologram that everyone knew, and Kylo fronts it, his stature both terrifying and stately.

‘Since then, the enemy's tactical methods have changed. They are far more aggressive. They take no prisoners and they give no quarters. Under Kylo Ren, they've managed to expand their claws into the zones. _More_ so in the last five years than they did in the last ten. We have to put a stop to this.’ As Captain Poe Dameron stands before his Resistance troops, his handsome face flares with a certain vicious resolution—

‘We have to _end_ this rabid animal the First Order created.’


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> Welcome back to another crazy ride for my two favourite space kids. This chapter is quite a mouthful because it deals a lot with uncovering Ben and Rey in the context of war, politics and corruption. I honestly, really tried to do more Kylo Ren/Ben POV, but it’s so difficult for this story’s pacing!
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** This chapter will have tinges of destructive behaviour/unhealthy needs. Ben was never going to be 100% a nice guy and Rey has always been drawn to the dark side. This is really a fic that explores dark with a side of fluffy. Please mind the updated tags so you can decide if you're comfortable to proceed ahead!
> 
> Also: Thank you to sweet AD's intensely crazy Adam Sackler from Girls HBO Series for the dirty-talk inspiration.
> 
> ENJOY! ❤️
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you to [MissAvery](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAvery) / [@spiritusmovensx](http://twitter.com/spiritusmovensx) for the amazing coverboard. Just look at the font!!! 💖

* * *

"You’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”

“The truth is often what we make of it; you heard what you wanted to hear, believed what you wanted to believe."

**—Obi-Wan Kenobi**

* * *

It takes two weeks before Poe returns with the remaining troops.

Rey attempts to visit Finn at the critical unit in the medbay, but as she stands from afar, seeing his broken body lie motionless in the bed as Rose gently tends to him, both rage and shame boil within her once more. She doesn’t have the guts to face him _just_ yet.

While there were material losses on both sides of the conflict, the Resistance failed spectacularly to secure both the outpost and the resource, both now under First Order control. Upon his return, Poe—completely humiliated once more by the defeat—refuses to address anyone other than Commander Skywalker and junior Commander Jun Sato. While Rey's more than happy not to have a run-in with her seething squadron leader anyway, it only takes three days before Poe has everyone in the briefing room again.

‘Rey—’ his voice is hard-pressed, ‘You’re now a sergeant with immediate effect and will be assigned a small team.’

Rey is dumfounded. "What? Why?"

‘We’ve lost a lot of good soldiers in the last few days. You’re one of the few experienced enforcers I've left within this zone. It’s about time you’re recognised for your—’ and Poe almost chokes it out, ‘— _skills_.’

Rey scowls back at him, because she knows it’s all bullshit. She would require at least five more years of proficiency before she'll be even be considered. Poe _needs_ something from her, and he’s using this sudden advancement to corner her down into doing it.

‘We’ve got intel that Captain Wexley's still alive and being held in a neutral zone. This will be an in-and-out extraction. Given the minimal size of the team, if we can avoid engaging the First Order, let’s do so.’

‘How many we looking to pull out, sir?’ an officer asks.

‘Just the one. Kylo Ren slaughtered the rest before we got to them. The entire division at that outpost is dead.’

Rey’s stomach immediately twists into knots.

Poe pulls up the blueprints for the target building. ‘We’re going to run this with two teams. One to be led by Sergeant Ridley and the other with me,’ and he points to the cross-section of the different floors, tapping to the bottom of the diagram. ‘Captain Wexley's being held in the lowest level. The distress signal we’re picking up from him says it’s _this_ space. They're using that as an interrogation chamber. Hell fucking knows what kinda torture they're doing to him, but we’ve located a small abandoned mineshaft that runs just below it.’

He nods to Rey. ‘Sergeant Ridley’s team will be a unit of five. We need to head below and blow out the fuse boxes. The temporary blackout before any system reboot should give my team some leverage to go through the automated doors. Once Captain Wexley's secured, my team will rendezvous with Ridley’s squad down in the mineshaft through these small access vents.’ And he echoes once more, ‘I repeat, this is _strictly_ a rescue operation. Do _not_ engage other than self-defence. We don’t have the numbers right now for a full assault. Any questions? Are we clear?’

‘All clear, Captain,’ the troops respond in unison.

‘We move out in one hour.’

When the troops start to pile out of the room, Rey barrels right up to Poe. ‘ _Sir—_ the First Order almost _never_ takes prisoners. You said so _yourself_ they give no quarters. Why would they show mercy to Captain Wexley now?’ and Rey shakes her head. ‘Something’s off.’

Poe doesn't even look at her. ‘Noted on your concern, but the mission has been greenlit by Commander Sato. We’re getting Wexley outta there before they rip out anymore compromising intel off him.’

‘What makes you think they haven’t done it already?’

‘You’re dismissed, _Sergeant—_ ’ and his voice is icy, ‘We’re not going to rest until we bring Snap home.’

* * *

‘Bored!’ Hux groans, tossing tiny peanuts into his mouth.

‘The only time you’re _not_ —you dipshit—is when you’re having a damn jerk off,’ Ben mutters, crouching behind the columns of a strategic rooftop site. 

‘How long do we have to sit here?’

‘As long as it takes.’

‘It’s been three fucking days. Maybe they decided to leave that loser to rot.’

Ben sneers, ‘They’ll come. He’s Dameron’s buddy.’ And he looks over his shoulder, noting the rest of the troops were already in position with their automatic rifles. 

‘Well, Supreme Leader is bloody pleased with the victory over the resource station. So...might be safe to say, we’ll be able to take some time off soon. I need a damn break.’

‘There's never gonna be time off,’ Ben mumbles. ‘The conflict will carry on until we’re both dead and decaying in a ditch somewhere.’

‘Well, _fuck_ me,’ Hux rolls his eyes. ‘Aren’t you just a bucket of sunshine today?’

Ben frowns at Hux, taking a long puff from the stick of cigarette he's holding. ‘How’s the recruitment coming along?’

‘As brilliant as it can be. We’ve got about forty percent increase in new sign-ups this year, so that _should_ help substantially. I’ve received our Supreme Leader’s agreement for funding of a new training site in one of the neutral zones near the new resource station. There’s quite a bit of barren land there, so it’s a good amount of space for new trainees. We’ve already begun setting up the quarters as a start so they can move in.’ Hux flicks some crumbs off his pants. ‘But the newbies have quite a long way to go before they can start serving.’

‘Well, better than taking orphans. These kids are given a choice.’

‘You know as well as I do. Orphans are the easiest resource,’ Hux snorts. ‘It’s the perfect cycle every army needs for a steady flow of strong men and women for the divisions.’

Ben shakes his head, but says nothing more. The immediate surrounding is relatively calm despite the deadly intentions of the First Order. There's a steady wind blowing today and Ben's made sure both Hux and him had their wind meters—to ensure the right conditions for precise sniping. He's out for blood today, and the plan has been carefully crafted to ensure that he'll take out as many surviving Resistance troops as possible. If Dameron was one of them, even better, and he'll go to bed with a smile on his face.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask,’ Hux suddenly interrupted his thoughts. ‘There’s some crap talk floating around about you with a girl a couple of weeks back. The night I crashed out at the hotel.’

Ben felt his muscles tense. 'What of it?'

‘The guys on patrol said they heard some shooting, but when they checked in on you, you told them to leave?’ And Hux cocked an eyebrow. ‘What’s that about?’

‘Was showing off my targeting skills,’ Ben’s mouth curls into a smirk. ‘Showed her my _other_ gun too, so don't blame me that I’m not a fucking attention-seeker.’

Hux narrows his eyes. ‘Since when you cared if anyone hears you fucking around? Never stopped you before.’

‘I’m beginning to wonder if this is a damn therapy session I didn’t ask for,’ Ben’s voice instantly turns low and authoritative, subtly telling Hux to back off from questioning his superior.

Hux ponders his response for a moment before finally mumbling, ‘ _Tosser—_ ’ and he leans over to check his wind metre again.

Despite the trash talk he has with Hux—which he theorises is likely an automated male hormonal driven _thing—_ he’s completely and utterly pining for Rey. After pulling out her details from the archives, he spent almost a week running through every possible data he could find on her. So far, he’s only located an official classification snapshot of her parents when they first moved from a neutral zone to the formerly First Order-controlled Jakku. He surmises the ferocious little Rey must have been born shortly after.

And now it takes so very little for him...

Just with a _mere_ thought of her, to make a mess in his quarters with his fist.

Each night, he wrestles with himself as he pictures her in the gutters of his mind. The way her brown hair spills over the white bedsheets as her aggressive doe-eyes look up, begging him to go harder between her legs. The scent of her smooth skin as he crushes her soft mounds in his mouth. The feeling of her body shaking underneath his as her mouth parts in desire. If he had her within his grasp now, he’d so very much like to—

_Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck!_

His mind goes into a never-ending stream of curse words each time she shows up in his thoughts uninvited, particularly while he’s doing something _far_ more tedious. It’s—in basic terms—just downright humiliating when he has to shield his heated face during a strategy meeting. Or when he's forced to wait until the control room empties out so his subordinates don’t notice their commanding officer’s untimely boner. He tries to take the steam off at the command centre’s shooting range where the troops train, but they clear out immediately once they see his manic eyes. The first time they stuck around, Ben shouted profanities at every single one of them for their unacceptable shots at the mechanical targets.

Hux had come up to him after, patting him on the back, sniggering, ‘You need to keep calm and get laid, my friend. You’re losing it.’

 _Oh_ , Ben thinks through clenched teeth. _Wouldn’t you like to know?_ He's pissed, wondering why he’s becoming a raging hormonal adolescent again. He hasn’t been a virgin since fifteen, and yet he’s acting like he’s just rediscovered the power of his right hand—

But he _knows_. He knows he wants her so bad that it’s driving him nuts.

 **‘Commander Ren—’** Ben’s communicator suddenly pierces through his attentions. **‘We have hostiles in range. Awaiting your orders to proceed.’**

Ben immediately stubs out his cigarette and adjusts his rifle’s telescope to survey the environment. As they are still quite a distance, he can make out approximately twenty Resistance troops scouring the landscape and charting a pathway into the structure that holds the hostage.

‘Prepare to engage,’ Ben growls. ‘I want _every_ _single one_ _of them_ picked off before they can leave with the prisoner.’ And his eyes flicker sadistically as he continues, ‘If anyone gets eyes on the leader—Poe Dameron—you have my permission to kill on sight.’

**‘Copy that, Commander.’**

‘Here we go...’ Hux mutters and he exchanges customary fist bumps with Ben before they adjust their sniper rifles advantageously on the tripods.

‘ _Steady—_ ’ Ben says as he aims. ‘On my command—’ and when the Resistance came within range, his eyes flick to his wind gauge one last time before he thunders, ‘Light them up!’

It turns into complete chaos after, as Resistance troops scatter. A number of them start taking cover, shooting back wildly after tracing where the long-range blitzes came from.

‘Second squad—’ Ben directs. ‘Be ready for ground assault!’

**‘Roger that, Commander. We’ll be standing by for your go-ahead in two minutes.’**

‘Eat this, Resistance scum!’ Hux spat, firing a precise bullet through the skull of one of the enforcers before yelling to Ben, ‘ _Oye—_ I’ve got three already!’

Ben flips the bird to Hux, and as he fine-tunes his rifle again—because he’s got the _best_ luck in the world—he finally spots Poe Dameron scurrying around the wreckage, roaring commands to his platoon. ‘That cunt is _mine!_ ’ Ben snarls to Hux, pulling back the bolt to reload his chamber once again. Just as he starts to adjusts his scope to focus on Poe, his vision falls upon a familiar face amid the mayhem—

‘ _Fuck—_ ’ Ben exhales sharply, his neck recoiling.

‘What?’ Hux barks, ‘Did you say something?’

Ben numbly watches Rey through his lens, leaping for shelter behind old, decommissioned vehicles as she shouts directions to a small group of troops. From the corner of his eye, he sees Hux, still yelling expletives till spit dribbles down his chin as he begins to aim towards her direction. Ben's always pride himself that as one of the fastest minds in the army, but for some reason, it’s a useless pulp today. All he could think about is to ensure that the Captain of the First Order—who's a pretty damn good shot by Ben’s standards, doesn’t terminate Rey today.

Ben promptly fires a stray shot towards Rey’s direction, alerting her that she's being targeted, and he's relieved when she scrambles out of range immediately.

‘What the _fuck_ was that?’ Hux bellowed, ‘I almost had her!’

Ben ignores him, continuing to be fixated on her movements. He could see Dameron's already penetrated the building while he was distracted with Rey, likely making his way to get the hostage. His eyes sweep back to see that Rey's taken a unit down below. 

‘They're heading into the mineshaft!’ Hux shouts into his communicator, ‘Second squad—converge by the fire escape and follow them in. Take out every single one of those fuckers!’

After Ben fires another shot into another one of Dameron’s enforcers, he stays unmoving for a moment, the gears in his mind grinding to a halt as he contemplates his next move. He watches the second squadron push through the debris, swiftly following Rey’s platoon down into the depths of the tunnels. A string of tiny explosions soon follow, going off underground. Ben squints his eyes at the building to see the lights flicker slightly before plunging into darkness, but within seconds, the power comes back up. He had anticipated _this_ —that the Resistance will attempt to destroy the fuse boxes beneath the surface, so he had the men implement backup generators. The gunfire sounds and flashes grow more frenetic in the premise, intense hollering echoing in the distance.

Ben’s eyes flick to the entrance of the mineshaft again, his mind reeling, before he gets up.

‘Where the hell are you going?’ Hux demands.

‘Backing the squad in the tunnels,’ he says, pulling the strap of his automatic rifle across his chest. ‘You pick off any strays with the boys here, then get into the building. Fan out section by section and finish off Dameron’s team.’

‘Ren—’ Hux starts to say, ‘We’ve already sent a team to clear them out _without_ you having to—’

‘Maintain the position here and finish the fucking job as directed. That’s an _order_ , Captain Hux.’

* * *

The small explosions trigger the retaining walls within the mineshaft to crumble slightly. After one of the officers blows out the fuses in the dimly lit tunnel, Rey buzzes Poe. While she notices the underground lightings that span across the passageway started to flicker, it surprisingly did _not_ shutdown. She feels a slight panic creep through her, and she’s _always_ had good instincts.

And the extraction effort is—in simple terms—going to _shits_. The First Order must have been waiting for them as they had well place troops on high ground, cutting them down one by one. Before they separated, she could tell Poe’s squad lost at least five men while she lost two from her own; Officer Hype Fazon and Officer Bo Keevil. She was lucky herself, as someone fired a wild shot towards her when she was unfocused, narrowly missing being sniped dead.

 _Could've been your last day alive and you didn’t know it_ , she ponders at her own mortality.

‘Captain, the fuse boxes are down, but awaiting your confirmation if the power's gone out in the building,’ Rey reports in. ‘I _repeat_ , awaiting your confirmation.’

Her communicator only responds back with a sharp crackling sound. She shakes her wrist in annoyance, lifting it to the ceiling, wondering if it’s having signal issues. They are quite far below ground, so perhaps Poe’s team hadn’t reached the lower levels of the premise yet. As minutes pass, she finally makes out various muffled and disjointed voices, but she couldn’t comprehend any of them. ‘Captain Dameron—’ her voice getting frantic. ‘Say that again. You’re breaking up.’

Then, she hears a distorted yell, **‘— _trap! It’s a—all units fall—heading to—tunnels—repeat all units to converge—_ ’**

And the static cuts in again.

Rey feels disoriented. She looks up at her remaining three troops, all staring at her for the next steps. She glances above her and contemplates, combing through her memory for the building schematics that Poe used during the briefing. Her eyes narrow along the pathway, estimating the distance and performing hasty calculations in her head.

‘Something must've fucked-up, Sergeant,’ Officer Freya Fenris says to Rey. ‘We’ll need a Plan B if we’re gonna get Captain Wexley out. _Alive_.’

Rey turns to the blonde enforcer who's the designated grenadier. ‘Fenris, did we bring any of the standard-issued sticky explosives?’

Freya began rummaging through her pouches. She pulls out a flat device with tiny clamps and a remote, giving them to Rey. ‘We’re in luck, ma’am.'

‘Is Captain Dameron’s squad...’ Officer Torra Doza falters. ‘Are we the only ones left?’

‘Pull yourself together, Doza!’ Officer Griff Haloran barks, ‘We don’t know that yet. Stop being a pussy!’ 

‘Shut the fuck up, Griff!’ Torra shouts back, ‘We just lost Hype and Bo back there. Don’t tell me that doesn’t bother you one bit!’

Suddenly, Griff flies forward, his body dropping dead on the ground from a shot in the back. Torra screams out in rage, sharply raising her weapon towards the incoming First Order team that's snuck up on them. The tunnel plunges into utter turmoil as a flurry of shots are viciously exchanged between both squads, with some dangerously bouncing off the retaining walls.

‘We’ll cover you, Sergeant!’ Freya bellows.

While Rey leaps behind some overturned mining carts, Torra and Freya flank each other as they fire wildly back at the enemy. Rey crawls between the rubble, careful to avoid detection amid the fighting. As she approaches her targeted spot, there's a single First Order trooper standing in her way. She swiftly kicks against his ankles and his body flips back onto the ground. As he attempts to shoot her, she knocks the rifle out of his hand, but he grabs her by legs and she trips forward.

The man scrambles to his feet hollering, ‘ _Bitch!_ ’ and his boot thrusts hard into her stomach.

She punches him in the groin, buying some time to pull herself up as he retracts in agony. She speedily propels herself against his chest, striking him backwards before she grabs his arm and twists it, exposing his chest as she violently smashes her elbow against his ribcage. He shrieks in pain as a sickening crack of bones follow. She finishes him off by slamming his head into the wall, but just then, she hears a cry of anguish from Freya as shots hit into both her shoulder and thigh, causing her to stumble at the edge of the tunnel.

Rey’s fury instantly explodes to the surface. ‘You’ll pay for that, you fucking animals!’

She connects the antenna to the device and throws it hard towards the ceiling to stick—just above where the remaining four First Order troops are standing—

—and she slams down on the remote.

A tiny beep rings out. The detonation goes off and a fissure rips through the tunnel before it partially collapses onto the First Order squad. There's a sudden blinding blast of smoke and dust filling the cavernous ceiling as wreckage flies everywhere.

As the air clears, Rey pushes herself up on her elbows to see ruined bodies across the floor while Torra's anxiously helping Freya to her feet. And Rey sees Captain Wexley’s bounded body that fell through the rubble from the flooring above—just as she anticipated. She chokes slightly from the particles in her lungs as she scampers across on all fours. She hauls herself up to run and her fingers press down on his neck, checking his pulse. Her heart skips a beat, realising he’s still _alive_ , and quickly slices through his bindings.

‘Rey!’ she hears a voice yell ahead of them.

And she feels immediate relief as she sees Poe, who must have successfully retreated back into the access vents for the mineshaft.

‘We’ve gotta get the fuck outta here!’ he exclaims, trudging over. There's only one other officer beside Poe—Officer Kazuda Xiono, and Rey feels nauseous, thinking of the number of enforcers they lost today, all the lives they sacrificed _just_ to pull Captain Wexley out. ‘You got Snap!’ Poe shouts hoarsely, part hysterical, part ecstatic.

They flee down the passageways towards the exit stairwell. Torra and Freya go first, carefully climbing back up as Freya limps her way through, groaning every moment her injured shoulder is twisted. Poe slings the unconscious Wexley’s arm over his shoulder, but just before Rey could hoist up the other limb, she hears a _voice._ That lingering murmur in her murkiest dreams that makes every fibre in her body tense—

‘There you are.’

She swallows uneasily, her eyelids closing for a moment as she takes a deep breath. She tilts her head to the side, turning to face the opposite end of the tunnel—

—to see Kylo Ren through the darkness, his intimidating frame partially hidden in the shadows as he leans against the retaining wall with his arms crossed. The eerie calmness in his stance tells her he’s been there for a while, observing the bloodbath.

Watching her every move.

It’s only when Poe roars at the sight of him that she's snapped out of the trance. It happens so quickly that she doesn’t register it, and before she could move, Kylo’s weapon is aimed at Poe who attempted to reach for his gun. ‘Don’t fucking _move_ a muscle, Dameron,’ Kylo’s tone is frighteningly collected. ‘Unless you want your insides to paint across the fucking walls.’ When Poe stays silent, Kylo continues, ‘You may leave here with your little squad—including the prisoner. I’ve told my men to scope inside the building, so the way should be clear.’ His eyes flare wickedly. ‘Everyone else may go, _except_ the newly promoted Sergeant Ridley.’

‘ _What_?’ Poe yells. ‘What the _fuck_ do you need her for?’

‘We have some unfinished business.’

‘You can go to—’

Kylo fires a warning shot that whizzes past, just inches from Poe’s temple. ‘No one asked your permission. I _swear_ —just give me one more reason to blow your fucking brains out right now, and I’ll do it.’

‘Captain—’ Rey finds her voice. ‘I'll handle this. Just get the hell out of here. Fenris and Wexley need medical attention.'

Poe glances from Rey to Kylo and back to Rey. His expression is furiously stumped, his eyebrows tightly wrinkled before he exhales angrily. He mumbles curses under his breath before he pulls Wexley’s flaccid body up the stairway together with Kazuda. Rey’s gaze doesn’t leave Kylo’s, and their eyes hold each other frozen in place until Poe’s footsteps disappear into the distance. When she sees Kylo let go of his rifle, she instantly yanks out her gun.

He chuckles. ‘Drop your weapon, Rey. You know I’m not gonna hurt you.’

‘Is that supposed to be funny, considering how violent you are?’

‘You mean that night when we were together?’ and he arches an eyebrow, circling her like a predator. ‘But you wanted it rough, _didn’t_ you? You asked me to go harder when I was starting to be gentle.’

Rey’s face immediately flushes. ‘Stop playing your fucking games with me again. You know _exactly_ what I mean.’

‘If I recall, you were the one that went for my gun,’ and he smirks. ‘And you threw the first punch at me as well.’

‘Why did you let them go? What are you playing at?’

‘Who?’ and he tilts his head. ‘You mean your little gang of friends?’ He rolls his eyes. ‘ _Please—_ I don’t give a fuck about whatever intel that prisoner has. It’s nothing the First Order doesn’t already have. The point was to lure Dameron out given the relationship between him and the hostage, but I changed my mind when I saw _you_.’

Rey's palms start to sweat. ‘What do you want?’

Kylo extends his arms open as he approaches her. ‘I just want to talk. No games. I promise.’

‘About what?’

‘About who you are.’

Rey pauses. ‘What are you saying?’

‘Lower the gun first.’

‘If I do, don't come any closer.’

‘Why?’ and Kylo's voice lowers to a deliciously hypnotic tone, ‘Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.’

Rey’s breath hitches at his words which causes a tiny, sardonic smile to curl on his lips. She feels her lungs collapsing and her stomach bending into a loop. She couldn’t reconcile these strange feelings she's beginning to develop for him against what she knows she has to do, but her hands still fall to her side, and she slides the gun back into the holster by her waist. She sees the way he gazes at her, and when she parallels it to the look that he gave Poe earlier, Kylo isn’t looking to kill her.

At least, not _yet_.

‘That’s better,’ he purrs as he towers over her, pulling the rifle straps off his shoulder and leaning it against the tunnel fortifications.

His hands enclose around her hips while his large physique backs her against the wall. Her skin prickles excruciatingly as he touches her, as if their bodies are grateful at their reunion once more. She wants to hate it. Every physical attempts made by him to reach out should disgust her. But she can’t. She wants it more than she would care to divulge. Her body betrays her as it curves towards him instinctively, and her face tilts up to meet his eyes with a defiant gaze.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ and he nestles his nose into her hair. ‘Has anyone ever told you that?’

‘That doesn’t work on me.’

‘No?’ and he lifts her chin. ‘I know how you feel about me. You said so yourself that night.’

‘Sex has a strange way of confusing me,’ she mumbles, tugging her face away from his grip. ‘I’ll never feel anything for you other than that. You destroy homes and tear families apart.’

Kylo’s eyes harden. ‘Do you want to know the truth about your parents?’

Rey's body goes rigid immediately.

‘Or have you always known? And you’ve just hidden it away?’ And he bends down to whisper in her ears, ‘You know the truth.’

‘They were slaughtered by killers like _you_ ,’ she snaps through gnashed teeth, already attempting to squirm out from his firm grasp.

‘Your ability to penetrate the First Order zones,’ he continues, unaffected by her fidgeting. ‘Didn’t you ever wonder why it's so easy for you?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘It’s every bit my damn business when it comes to security.’ And his warm breath tickles her neck when he continues, ‘There’s something about your identifier chip. You can enter my domain because _you_ were born in a First Order zone.’

Rey’s blood freezes.

‘I know the rest of your story. Did the Resistance tell you what the name of your zone was? Or did they invent some cover up like they always do?’

Her voice trembles. ‘You—you're _lying.'_

‘I’ve never lied to you,’ he reminds her sympathetically. ‘Your parents travelled from a neutral sector into a First Order occupied Zone Fifteen known as Jakku, a division specialising in salvaging scrap metal. Five years after you were born, your family was killed in an event documented as The Purge of Jakku, where Resistance troops launched an incursion to seize control of the resource. And now, that zone has been renamed as Resistance Zone Thirty-Five.’ 

‘ _Don’t—_ ’ Rey’s voice starts to amplify.

‘Were you told that you’ve been rescued?’ he contemptuously snorts. ‘That it was the First Order who destroyed your livelihood and you'll have a chance to avenge your family’s death?’ He caresses her cheeks. ‘You were so young then, Rey, and they exploited you like every other orphan they take in.’

‘How would you know?’ she shouts. ‘You know _nothing_ about the life we had!’

Kylo stops, an inexplicable look crossing his features before he shrugs dismissively. ‘I knew a kid like that once.’

She pushes his hands away. ‘I don’t want this!’ and she struggles forcefully. When he removes his grip, she knocks back against the wall as he withdraws. ‘No, my chip has a flaw that can bypass both Resistance and First Order zones. My parents are from a neutral sector that was invaded by the First Order!’

‘I assume you have no access to _any_ records of them?’ he speaks calmly. ‘That’s because they are First Order data. That’s why the Resistance has nothing on them. Everything they have will be _after_ the purge. You should know better. Any zone that's lost to another faction will initiate a memory wipe from their core systems to protect intel.’ 

‘Stop talking!’

His tone turns acid. ‘If you _truly_ believe the lies you were told, just answer me this. Where's your chip located?’

‘I’m not some fucking child,’ she hisses, ‘It’s in my—’

And Rey abruptly goes still.

‘Where?’ he asks softly, but she knows he already has the answer. ‘Where is it, Rey?’ he nods to urge her on. ‘Say it.’

Her mind immediately flashes through her life as an enforcer. She was sixteen when she began accompanying senior officers for her first patrol exercise. She was already unfeeling to life by then, functioning routinely and taking every day as it came. Patrolling is one of the duller jobs. Largely administrative, especially when they spend most of their time running identifications of inhabitants, ensuring there were no illegal stragglers from other sectors or any First Order intruders. And anyone they scanned who originated from a neutral zone...

‘You know they don’t have the technology like we do,’ she hears Kylo’s voice murmur to her. ‘Only the Resistance and the First Order have the medical equipment to implant chips directly into the brain.' He closes the gap between them again. ‘If you were conceived in a neutral zone, your chip would be in your limbs. That’s how first-generation outsiders are differentiated.’ His hands cup her face as his thumb starts to swipe off the battle grime from her cheeks and forehead. ‘Someone within the Resistance high-command must be taking care of you. That’s the only way this deception could've gone unnoticed.’

And instantaneously, Rey’s pent up wrath in her heart turns to Luke Skywalker.

When Rey stays silent, his mouth touches her forehead. ‘Regardless, this has been eye-opening to see how they've manipulated this. It's about time we ran a clean-up of our system to detect any absurd discrepancies.’ And he chuckles dryly, ‘Where people are declared _dead_ , but their chips are still active.’

She feels something slide into the breast pocket of her vest. A datastick.

‘That’s everything you’ll need to know,’ he says.

‘You expect me to believe this isn’t some scheme for you to extract out information from our mainframes if I were to plug this in?’

‘No tricks, Rey. I only want you to know what these people are capable of.' And he pats her hips pacifyingly. ‘I promise. And I’ve put something extra in there as well.’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a surprise just for you, which I think you’ll like.’

She blinks, slightly befuddled by his gift before she breathes, ‘Why are you this way with me?’ her voice cracking. ‘I don’t understand.’ 

She sees something unfamiliar flicker across his eyes when he pulls back. ‘This conflict that rages between us has always been so senseless. We're all just waiting to die. If not from the war, then from disease or starvation. I started to see in shades of black and white, becoming so infused that everything blends with no differentiation. Until I can’t remember what my purpose or goal is.’ And he slants his head as he stares at her. 'But sometimes, things can suspend themselves for a second, and every once a while, you find a connection. When I met you, I could no longer see my surroundings. I can’t see anything else.’

And her eyes flutter close as he leans in, brushing a surprisingly chaste kiss on her lips. ‘Just you.’

She’s losing herself to him. She senses it resounding through every bone in her broken and wearied body, so she mutters the weakest retort she can think of. ‘And yet you still have armies to command at your disposal. To attack and invade into Resistance and impartial sectors in the name of your leader.’ 

He grows impatient. ‘We’re in a war, Rey. Both factions fighting for control that's never to be satiated. Sending men and women into the field to fight on the whim of their leadership. You shoot, we react. We bombard, you counter.' And then his voice turns stony, ‘The only difference is that we’re not hypocrites about it. My Supreme Leader is deemed evil by some, but he's never hidden his intentions.’ His fingers constrict at her jawline, forcing her to look at him. ‘There's safety and order within our zones. There's work and support for those who need it.’

‘You socialise with criminals!’

She flinches when Kylo bellows out an icy laughter, his deep tenor resonating off the walls in the mineshaft. ‘Such _as_?’ and when Rey gives him a sulky look, he raises an eyebrow. ‘Since I took over, we no longer support any kind of slavery or human trafficking. The Resistance is unable to negotiate favourable terms with _certain_ groups of people—unlike the First Order, so they retaliate by embargoing and deeming their commerce illegal. So naturally, the First Order now becomes associated to prohibited activities.’

His eyes flash as he jeers, 'As they say, history is written by the victors.’

‘Stop,’ Rey closes her eyes. ‘Just _stop_.’

‘You like the illusion of free-will?’ Kylo snaps. ‘Because that's exactly what they're giving you. If anything fucks up with their territory, the First Order is to be blamed. They’ve always been shackled by their fucked-up ideals of good and evil.’ There's a short pause before he speaks again. ‘And that’s why they allowed Han Solo to die.’

His voice was too quiet, that perhaps he had meant those words only for his ears, but Rey caught them, feeling an unsettling perplexity wash over her. She knows of that name very well from the history books she studied during her cadet days. He was once a great Resistance Captain who was killed during a mission when she was very young, already living in an orphanage at the Resistance headquarters’ compound.

‘I don’t—’ her voice croaks. ‘Why do you care? He was a Resistance enforcer. If anything, you should be celebrating his death.’

Kylo’s hand moves abruptly from her jaw and down to her neck, resting there heavily with his fingers circling around her throat. A warning.

Rey’s heart spirals when his eyes burn into hers with something terrifying. ‘I’d be careful with that mouth of yours, my dear.' His hands are so incredibly large, it spans across her entire neckline and curls around her nape with ease. His thumb pushes her chin up, his mouth just inches away from hers. Despite his threatening demeanour, there is no fear in her. She knows the right thing is to shrink back, withdrawing from all his advances and escape from his clutches—

But when he captures her lips in a bruising kiss, nothing on the planet could tear her away to do it. 

***

When they break apart, they are breathless and her emotions start to shatter. The pain of betrayal. The likelihood of Luke Skywalker’s deception, a man whom she trusted with her life. The knowledge of her entire existence being a _fucking_ lie.

‘Take it away,’ her voice is barely a whisper. She watches his eyes darken as he recognises what she’s asking of him. ‘Take it _all_ away. Make me feel something else.’

She detests these silent tears of grief that are trickling from the corners of her lids. She _needs_ to feel in control, and with the intense gratification he'll give her, she'll find domination over her own emotions again. Her head spins as she grapples with her dishonourable craving. Whatever disgrace and lack of morality that swallows her whole, she’ll be damned with it, because there is certainty in _this_ —

And she yearns for it too much.

She misses the feeling of him and the fire he carries throughout her body. Her hands move up to grasp onto his vest, pulling him against her. She stumbles back from his weight, but when his mouth is on hers again with a searing urgency, it bends her spirit to his will. The way his lips move against hers, she could no longer tell where she ends and he begins. There is no right or wrong anymore—

Just him.

There's a blinding indignation that sweeps through her as they tear at each other’s clothes. It’s not as easy as the first time, being fully suited up in their gear, so there's just _far_ too many layers this round. If he took his time before, savouring the sight of her while his lips trail along every part of her exposed skin, he has little endurance this time. Once their vests come off, his strength is magnified as he raises her to yank at her boots before roughly ripping both her tights and underwear off. He pushes her against the grainy walls, and his mouth seizes hers so ruthlessly, she doesn’t have time to react when his hands clamp down hard on her breasts. Her hand trails down his abdomen to brazenly palm his eager erection through his pants, and he growls fiercely.

 _We’re both villains_ , she tells herself as they succumb to this crude thirst with the death of their fallen comrades around them—

But in that moment, as she fumbles to help him with his trousers, he's all she can see.

And when he hitches her legs around his waist as the last pieces of apparel drops to his ankles, his palms lifting her effortlessly, she trembles in anticipation as the tip of him nudges at her entrance. There are no more inhibitions. Not when his touch forces her to acknowledge there's an emptiness that can only be filled by him. As her hands curl around his neck to brace herself, he crushes into her so savagely that her eyes jolt open in shock. When he starts to fuck her against the wall, his teeth grazing against her lower lip, all she can feel is him.

Just pure _utopia_.

‘Don’t stop—’ she gasps between their mouths, ‘It feels—it feels _so_ good.’ 

‘You have no idea—’ he pants. ‘How much I fucking needed this.’

His broken admission feels somewhat vulnerable, like he's baring himself out for her in an affecting capacity. She feels her heart hammering and the heat in her bloodstream, burning with an impermissible, emotive ache for him.

‘ _Say it—_ ’ he breathes, his eyelashes flit against her cheeks. ‘Say you want me as well.’

‘I-I _need_ you,’ she finds herself saying without much opposition, her fingers raking against his shoulder blades. ‘So—’ and she cuts off with a shrill cry when he thrusts particularly hard, ‘—much!'

‘Does it turn you on?’ his tone is lecherously rough. ‘That none of them know you spread your legs for me?’ His tongue attacks her throat. ‘You love that, don't you? That we’re fucking each other—you’re such a filthy, _bad_ girl and I’m gonna send you back to them full of my cum.’

She concedes a blubbing _yes_ to all of it and his eyes are ablaze. She holds him closer so she can lean in, whispering those words he wants to hear from her, over and over again until his ears turn bright crimson. She'll never let him know how much they actually mean, or that it’s the danger in him that makes her high.

‘Rey—’ his groans become harsher. ‘ _Fuck,_ I can’t—’

There’s too much hunger in the way he’s unrestrained as he hilts to the brim inside her with every plunge. The way his hips swirl against hers. The echoes of their slippery, heated skin moving against each other. How their mouths fuse together in a sloppy, passionate exertion to stifle their moans.

He makes her desire so much.

He drives her to feel too intensely.

This time, he reaches his peak first before she does. He pulls himself away from her lips and snarls something vulgar about her cunt in her ears. His fingers dig painfully into her hips as he sinks her down onto his full length, as if to ensure she has every last bit of him. ‘Take it—’ His tenor is almost animalistic. ‘Take _all_ of it.’ 

His final ragged pushes into her to ride out the waves are enough for her body to trail just behind him, and when his false name escapes her lips while she comes, he bites down hard on her neck, turning her vision into both a scorching red and a dazzling white.

***

Kylo must have been able to sense Rey’s disposition, for the increasing remoteness in her body language tells him she’s deeply affected by everything he’s told her.

A brief moment of compassion ensues as he helps her dress before lacing up her boots. She still says nothing, but her eyes observe his every move before he embraces her once more. As her head rests against his neckline, he sweeps back her damp hair and plants his mouth on her forehead. There's a comfortable sense of stillness that falls between them as she listens to his heartbeats. He occasionally lifts her chin to kiss her before he nuzzles back to the top of her head, stripping away more of her defences each time—

But her eyes remain sombre, staring blankly at the beauty marks speckled across his muscles as her mind slowly twists into something ugly. A rancorous and spiteful entity has begun to stir within her.

‘Rey?’ she hears his voice call to her.

She turns to him and he presses his forehead to hers. ‘I want you by my side.’ And his voice turns magnetic once more, intertwining their fingers together. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

 _I do_ , she acknowledges silently, but she only manages a mild nod at him. While she accepts another brush of his lips on hers, there's now a newfound earnestness that exists just between them.

He attempts to tease her. ‘It appears congratulations for your promotion are in order, _Sergeant_?’

And to her surprise, this unassuming deed from him manages to draw out a tiny beam on her face. Her pulse flutters when she sees the _look_ he gives after she smiles at him. As if he’s ready to obliterate everything just to have her. But all transient escapes must come to an end, and she leans back to glance at the exit stairwell. Something unknown flashes in her eyes, and in that fleeting moment of temper, despite her painfully growing feelings for Kylo Ren, she recognises what she needs more right now.

She wants to watch the world go up in flames.

The sun's starting to set when they ultimately make their way back up. It comes as no surprise that when they resurface from the tunnels, there's a squad of at least fifteen First Order troops a short distance away, waiting patiently for their commanding officer to return. They salute him with utmost reverence as they walk through them. Rey feels dizzy, knowing how stupidly vulnerable she is to be in this position. She could be shot right this moment if he turned on her, but watching him stride protectively by her side puts her at ease. There is an armoured hummer parked nearby, and the passenger door opens to reveal an infuriated, red-headed male stepping out. She immediately identifies him as the man she once bounded and gagged during the warehouse operation with Finn.

His nostrils flare when he sees her, throwing a puzzled look at Kylo and points a finger to her. ‘Hostage?’

‘No, Hux,’ Kylo responds firmly. ‘I have a message for the Resistance, and she’ll be the one delivering it.’

Hux blinks at him for a moment, speechless at what he’s just heard before muttering, ‘As you wish, Commander, but we urgently need to return to the command centre immediately.’ And he throws another dirty look at Rey before he lowers his voice, ‘There’s some pressing issues at hand.’

Kylo nods and then motions to one of the officers. ‘Give her your speeder bike. If there are patrols guarding any of the borders, let them know she's allowed to pass through unharmed.’

‘Yes, sir,’ and the officer signals at Rey. ‘This way, follow me.’

As Rey begins to walk together with the trooper, she glances behind to look at Kylo one more time, but he's already turned away to climb into the vehicle with his cohorts. When she mounts onto the speeder and kicks up the engine, she takes a deep, calming breath and begins the journey back. 

Alike a beautiful and destructive phoenix resurrecting from the ashes, the girl that she once was, Rey is no longer.

* * *

As Ben and Hux stroll through the sliding doors of the First Order command centre, Hux clears his throat roughly, repeatedly doing so till Ben turns to glare at him.

‘Can’t this wait?’

‘She’s the same one from the hotel, isn’t she?’ Hux says, his tone cantankerous. ‘What is it with this woman? What's she to you?'

Ben stops in his tracks and glances at Hux with a chilling expression. ‘ _Don’t—_ ’ His voice is low, but Hux knows it’s a warning. ‘Don’t you _ever_ fucking dare to speak about her to me. To _anyone_.’

Hux’s exasperation rises. ‘Ren, you know me. I don’t give a shit about who you wanna fuck. If it _has_ to be a girl from the bloody Resistance, that’s on you, but what I do give a damn about is when it starts jeopardising the mission. Do you have any idea how many men we lost in the building today because you weren’t there giving directions? Dameron set off damn militia-style nail bombs that shredded five of our junior boys all at once.’ 

Ben stands motionless, his muscles flexing and his jaw becoming taut as he considers Hux’s confrontation.

‘Commander Ren! Captain Hux!’ and both turn to see two troopers approaching them. 'The Supreme Leader Snoke has requested both your presence in his quarters.’

As they walk down the hallway, Ben sees from the corner of his eyes that Hux is swallowing nervously. ‘I _knew_ it. He’s got fucking spies everywhere. He’s always watching us!’

‘Calm the fuck down,’ Ben mutters.

There's an eerie ambiance when the doors to Snoke’s spartan quarters are opened by his guards. Ben has always avoided being in his leader’s company for too long, for unlike Rey who's the warmth of life that grows between the earth and soil, Snoke's been the constant foundation of Ben’s cold bearing and destructive nature. While he's grateful that Snoke had taken him in despite being an outsider, Ben always felt dead in his presence. Both men stand before the elderly ruler who sits in an enormous, black armchair at the end of the room, their hands folded behind them with their shoulders thrown back in veneration.

Snoke’s face rests on his palm as he eyes them calmly. ‘I am hearing very distressing things about my commanding team.' 

‘Supreme Leader, we've managed to snuff out the Resistance forces that came to rescue the captive we held after our victorious win of the resource outpost. We will immediately start mobilising our troops to acclimatise the surrounding neutral zones into our administration.’ 

When Snoke stays silent, Hux looks at Ben uneasily before continuing, ‘There are no concerns to be had with the loss of the hostage. We have all the necessary intel we need on the Resistance. It was purely a trap to—’

‘So, _why_ is that nuisance Resistance captain still breathing the same air we do?’

Ben lowers his head, his gaze fixed to the shiny dark tiles. ‘I take full responsibility for that.'

But Snoke disregards Ben, glaring directly at Hux. ‘What is this I’m hearing that our new training grounds are under attack?’

Ben’s head snaps up sharply at this news.

Hux answers mechanically. ‘The Resistance began their offensive move approximately an hour ago. I was _just_ briefing Commander Ren about this before we were summoned here.' 

‘What are the next steps?’

‘The outer zone troops have returned from a successful campaign a few days ago. We've regained strength in our numbers, so we're departing shortly to eradicate the enemy for their impudence in targeting our young trainees. That filth Dameron is with them. We'll once again _finish_ his entire squadron and continuously crush their morale.’ 

Snoke waves his hand. ‘ _Go—_ oversee preparations.’

After Hux throws a final glimpse at Ben, he immediately turns on his heels and marches out the door.

‘There has been a disturbance in you,’ Snoke’s icy inflection finally addresses Ben. ‘I have been receiving reports that you are—’ and he gives out a scathing sneer, ‘— _distracted_ from your duties over our growing dominion.’

‘I am not—’

‘You were seen _fraternising_ with the enemy!’ Snoke roars, ‘A young Resistance girl. She is the spy you were tasked to exterminate, is she not?’ And he demands with derision, ‘Tell me this is not true. That the boy I raised to become the weapon that he is now, is _not_ losing his mind over a pair of pretty eyes who's promised to share with him the heat between her legs!’

Ben cringes, and without realising, his fists start to clench by his side.

‘That can’t be it, can it?’ Snoke’s voice lowers as he questions with a clinical tone, ‘You’ve had your fair share of a lady’s warmth, and yet, _why_ are you bending so easily now? Why is _this_ one so different from the rest?’

Ben says the first thing that comes to his head. ‘She means nothing to me.’ His own possessiveness burns to protect the sanctity of what he shares with Rey. This abstruse connection that has manifested just between them.

‘So, you’re seeking for a whore? A plaything?’

Ben’s eyes sear into the floor beneath him. 'Yes.'

‘I sense you have more to say on this.’

‘I have observed her out in the field. She's a solid fighter with robust qualities that even _we_ —as the First Order—can find worthy to turn for serving our cause, if given the right prospects.’

‘Is that so?’

‘There can be no other reason.’

‘ _No—_ ’ Snoke drawls mockingly, ‘This is something else. When I found you all those years ago, you were just a shell of a boy, but passionate and full of anger. Unfathomable _hatred_. I saw what all mentors live to see in those who would eventually succeed them.’ His tenor becomes proud, ‘ _Raw_ , untamed strength with an unnaturally intelligent mind. You exceeded my expectations with your abilities and the skills you have sharpened has got you—has ascended this _entire_ organisation to where it is today.’

There is a brief silence, and Ben wonders if the nightmare is over—

But Snoke's voice rings in cold, clipped tones, ‘But even _you—_ the mighty Kylo Ren, have not faced such a test since the death of your father, Han Solo.’

‘By the grace of your teachings, I avenged his death against those who betrayed him.’ And Ben feels his body goes stiff as he continues, ‘As with her, I will not be seduced with your guidance.’

‘We shall see,’ Snoke smiles inhumanly through his deteriorating visage. ‘Come closer, my dear boy.’

When Ben approaches upon his imposing mentor, he instantly kneels before him. Snoke lifts his skeletal hand and rests it atop Ben’s shoulder. ‘Prove your strength to me. Entice her to be loyal to our principles and you may keep her in any way you wish. Or if she refuses— _kill_ her, as I will accept no further obstructions to your efficacy any longer.’

Ben remains silent, fighting against the unfamiliar impulse to strike back.

Snoke lifts his protégé’s face to scrutinize his expression. ‘I have taken care of you, have I not? Was I not there for you when you lost your way?’

Ben returns his mentor’s glance unwaveringly. ‘Yes, Supreme Leader.’ And he takes Snoke’s hand, brushing a devoted kiss of deference to his bony fingers. ‘I will never fail you.’

* * *

Rey is in the medical bay again.

She closes her eyes as the robotic arm places dressings around the darkening bruise on her abdomen, courtesy of the First Order officer whose head she crushed in the mineshaft. She dips her fingers into a pot of healing balm and gently massages it into the wounds on her hips, elbows, shoulders and certain parts of her back that scraped against the jagged walls of the tunnel during her impassioned pursuits with Kylo Ren. She touches the heated bite mark he left her on her neck, but no remedy is rubbed there. She unties her hair, letting it fall across her shoulders to shield it from prying eyes.

When Rey tries to make her way out, she hears someone call her.

‘Sergeant Ridley!’

It’s Officer Torra and she’s standing by a bed that houses the fatigued body of Officer Freya. Both of them wave enthusiastically at her, instinctively telling her she _should_ be going over to check on those in her platoon, because she's now a squadron leader, and there are people under her care.

‘How are you ladies?’ Rey asks.

Torra shrugs. ‘Freya is gonna be fine. It'll take more than a bullet in her limbs to fully subdue her.’

‘Shut up!’ Freya groans, her arm and leg restrained in the relevant casts to support the healing.

‘You holding up alright?’ Rey gently asks Torra. ‘I know the five of you were really close.’

Torra stares at her boots. ‘We used to call ourselves The Aces. We grew up together. All of us—Hype, Bo, Griff, Freya and me, as cadets in the academy. We've always requested to be assigned to the same squadron. Thinking that despite this ugly fight we’re in, we'd stick with each other. We were—’ and her voice cracks. ‘We were stronger together.’

‘Torra—’ Freya’s voice cuts through the gloom. ‘That’s _enough_. We knew this couldn’t last forever. That’s the life of an enforcer, and a day will come where we just won’t make it back.’

The ice in Rey’s heart twists viciously, as if refusing to melt, but the depth and care that exists between her squad reminds her of a warm, summer breeze. Perhaps she's reaching her tipping point, and her heart's being ripped at all angles. She hated being a part of this conflict. She despises giving her life for faceless individuals she doesn’t know, and watching others in her squad and partners like Finn do it as well—

But most of all, she's starting to feel tired of fighting _him_.

Perhaps there's some small part of her that wishes she never met him—so she may continue being blissfully ignorant, but it’s too late for such thoughts now.

‘Are you okay, Sergeant? You didn’t come back with us, and Kazuda said that the First Order’s Kylo Ren held you captive...?’ And Torra gives her a strange look.

Rey shakes her head too quickly. ‘He discovered I was a spy that infiltrated into one of their traders. He was trying to determine if I stole intel. Was lucky enough to escape before he could kill me.’

Torra points to the abrasions on her limbs. ‘Those look shit. He’s such a fucking animal.’

Rey smiles nervously before hastily steering the subject. ‘Where’s Captain Dameron?’

‘He took some fresh troops out a few hours ago. Something about some scoping mission in a neutral zone.’

Rey feels like something’s off given the timing, but she shrugs it away. ‘And Captain Wexley?’

‘He’s in the critical care unit. He’ll survive.’

Rey looks to Freya. ‘Did they say how long you’ll be in here?’

Freya shrugs. ‘Likely a week, but they’ll remove the cast after the second or third week probably.’

‘Anyway—’ Torra interrupts. ‘We just wanted to say, thanks for looking out for us today. We'll admit, we were a little worried because you're so young and we heard your speciality is more covert assignments, but you’re _awesome_. Females usually have a harder time climbing the ranks, but from the way you ran things today?’ And Torra stands to salute with a grin. ‘I’m a believer in you, Sergeant!’

Freya nods. ‘Your methods are a little unorthodox, but we’re proud to fight alongside you as we serve in this conflict.’

‘That’s…’ and Rey trails off to ascertain the right words. ‘Doza, Fenris—I appreciate that you both have very generous words for me.’

‘Call us Torra and Freya,’ Torra laughs. ‘It’s all good between us, ma’am. We ladies need to stick out for one another. We’re going to run this world someday!’

Rey feels her heart ache, and for the first time, with a sense of rapture. Hidden among the grime and blood of this entire feud, there are still tiny beacons of hope and comraderies among each other. Her body begins to feel warm and light again, and the glaring outrage she felt as she exited the tunnels begins to fade.

***

Rey sits in the mess hall with Jessika with a tray of bland food.

‘How are you feeling?’ Jessika asks her after popping open a soda. ‘You look terrible these days.’

‘Really?’ Rey shrugs, peeling back the cover of her pudding. ‘I feel fine.’

‘Well, you do have a certain _glow_ about you,’ and Jessika arches an eyebrow which makes Rey turn slightly pink. ‘But yeah, I can tell something’s troubling you, honey.’

‘It’s just been a bit of a shitshow lately. I know this fight has been going on for a _long_ time, but it’s starting to feel very pointless and I’m beginning to feel bitter.’

‘Did someone say something to you?’

‘It’s not _just_ about that, but I feel like I’ve got wool pulled over my eyes for the past fifteen years of my life,’ and Rey pauses. ‘Until recently—someone's finally ripped off that bandage for me.’

‘Is it serious? This thing that you’ve uncovered?’

Rey doesn’t answer and starts digging through her food.

Jessika shakes her head. ‘You’re so mysterious nowadays, and we rarely see each other anymore, even _before_ you got your new rank.’

‘Well, let's _see_. My former partner's a complete vegetable in the medbay, and his fiancé works in the same division as you, so don’t bite at me just because I’m avoiding the places you hang out.’

‘Speaking of bite...’ and Rey freezes as Jessika eyes her neck. ‘What’s that about?’

Rey curses internally, realising she had habitually swept her locks over her shoulder, exposing Kylo’s mark to the whole damn world. She quickly tugs her hair forward once more to conceal it.

‘Are you seeing someone?’ Jessika asks.

‘It’s complicated.’

‘It must be, considering you allowed him to give you _that_. I’m pretty sure you told me the last guy you slept with, who tried that on you, waved goodbye to his ability to procreate.’ And after they share a hearty laugh, Jessika’s voice softens, ‘Is this the person who took off the bandage?’

Rey hesitates before nodding.

‘Who is he? Someone I know?’

‘You could say that.’

‘What division is he in? ‘

‘Jess...’ Rey chews the inside of her cheek. ‘It—it’s not someone from the Resistance. That’s _not_ fair. You know you’re the only person I can’t fucking lie to. Can’t you just let me have this little thrill on my own?’

Jessika tilts her head. ‘Should I be worried?

‘Maybe. I don’t know.’

‘You're scaring me now. Who is he, Rey?'

‘If I tell you, you’re gonna have to promise me you’ll stay completely calm and understanding about this. You’re gonna keep it between us, because I've lost complete control over how I feel lately.’ And when Jessika gives a stiff nod, Rey drums her fingers on the table with a tentative expression. She looks into the eyes of a girl she's trusted since she was five—just like she trusted Luke, and for a moment she feels uncertain to open herself up again. To trust _anyone_ in this life she’s been raised in, but after taking a deep breath, her voice is barely audible, ‘His name is Kylo.’

‘Kylo?’ Jessika’s eyes frown, but within seconds, they widen in terror. ‘ _Kylo_ _Ren_? The commander of the First Order?’

‘Keep your damn voice down!’

‘How the—’ and Jessika clears her throat awkwardly as a few officers pass their table. ‘How the hell did you get mixed up with him? You realize the high-command will see this as treason!’ She grabs Rey’s hand across the table. ‘Are you defecting and passing on intel? Is that what’s happening?’

‘ _Never—_ ’ Rey fiercely responds. ‘You know better than anyone I’d rather die than fight for them.’

‘Then what the fuck is this? What the hell are you doing with him?’

Jessika rarely swears, so Rey knew she's becoming hysterical. ‘I was carrying out a lone mission for Poe, to capture Kylo Ren in his own territory a while back. It... _obviously_ didn’t go according to plan.' When she sees Jessika’s horrified expression, Rey angrily hisses, ‘You haven’t got a clue how difficult this is for me as well. Sometimes, I think I should've just killed myself and taken him down with me when the mission went to hell.’

‘Does he _hurt_ you?’

Rey sits there in silence for a moment, her mind rolling disastrously before admitting, ‘No. Not in that way.’

Jessika sucks in a sharp breath. 'Who else knows about this?'

'No one, but knowing Captain Dameron, I'm sure he's starting to suspect something.' 

‘Are you extracting intel from him? You’re using him, right?’

‘No.’

‘Well, what does he want with you if you’re not giving him vital information about the Resistance? What use does he have of you?’

‘He just wants…me.’

‘ _You_?’ Jessika slaps her hand on her forehead harshly. ‘Rey, wake the fuck up. Are you telling me you’re sleeping with him—the _enemy_ who's destroying and conquering everything we’re trying to protect—for the _kicks_?’

Rey presses her lips into a tight line. She wasn’t ready to bare herself to Jessika. To let her know how severe her feelings for him have developed. It's become more than just an ecstasy of a forbidden bond between them.

‘What has he told you that's messed you up like this?’

Rey feels cold-hard steel enter her body once more. 'Something about my past. Something I need to speak to Commander Skywalker about.’

‘But how do you know he’s telling the truth? Maybe he’s manipulating you. That’s what they do!’

‘He’s given me some data. I’ve looked at them before I went to the medbay earlier, running every assessment and screening every code in the files, and as far as I can tell, they're genuine records pulled from the archives of a core system.’ And it was staring at her right in the face when Rey pulled apart the facts on the screen, the final nail in the coffin to see the austere red and black logo of the First Order embossed onto her birth records and documenting her identification number.

‘What do the files say?’

‘I—I want to speak to Luke first,’ Rey shakes her head indignantly. She attempts to steer the subject elsewhere. ‘Did you know First Order zones provide free contraceptive implants for all female? _All—_ not just the ones working and in the combat frontlines?’

‘What’s your point?’

Rey struggle with her words. ‘Maybe we don’t know everything about how they run their administration, because whatever slander we know, it's information filtered to us by the Resistance.’

Jessika purses her lips. ‘You know I'll never say a word about you, my sweet, but it worries me that you’ve always been this way.’

‘What way?’ Rey snaps. ‘Standing up for myself, knowing what I want and not letting others get away with treating me like a fucking idiot?’

Jessika sighs. ‘Drawn to the darkness. Reaching out for things that lurk in the shadows. Even when I tell you it’s not safe.’

‘What are you trying to say?’ Rey wrinkles her nose.

‘You don’t remember?’ and Jessika presses her fingers against her lips. ‘Maybe you were too young then.’

Rey feels her temper boiling. 'What is it?'

‘I think you must've been seven or eight, but one day, out of nowhere, you told me you met a much older boy in the old memorial gardens. I could tell you were very taken by him, and even after I told you he seems dangerous, you were still hell bent on knowing who he was.’

Rey sits there in silence. Her memories of her childhood are relatively vague, most of them centre around her painful nightmares and her days fighting other kids in the orphanage for portions of food—

But _this_? She has no recollections of what Jessika speaks of, nor a face to put to this boy she mentions, but slowly—very surely, as she tears through her mind looking for answers, a dark figure starts to rise from the depths. A blurry image of a tall, brooding frame sitting among vibrant flower beds, and Rey's skin starts to tingle. 

‘Yes, I recall it now,’ Jessika’s voice echoes through her foggy thoughts. ‘It must've been around the time Captain Han Solo and his squad were killed during an assignment.’

Rey’s head twists sharply to Jessika, her eyes wide with a sudden epiphany. Her gears rapidly clicks into place, as if a wall that was once put up within her breaks with a violent rush and tiny pieces of her soul that she once lost, begins to crawl back inside her. There's a surge of voices circling within her head, all which seem to make her emotions break into a million pieces—

_Your valued leaders have many buried secrets, Rey. And I am one of them._

_Back then, we had zero intel on who he was. Only that he carried out the mission alone and is extremely dangerous._

_I only want you to know what these people are capable of._

_A new First Order leader has been elected, and we finally had a name for that lunatic—Kylo Ren._

_I knew a kid like that once._

_And that’s why they allowed Han Solo to die._

Before Jessika could say anything else, Rey stands up to give her childhood companion a gentle peck on her cheek and leaves.

***

When Rey finally reaches the doors of Luke’s quarters, there are five guards at the front. After identifying herself and the officer speaks to Luke through the communicator, the doors slide open.

The long-drawn out conflict and age has taken unkindly to her guardian. Where once his hair was a beautiful, dirty blonde with blue eyes that sparkled like the sky—now all but turned to a long, tangled mop of ash grey and duller irises. He doesn’t bother to upkeep his facial hair anymore, allowing a startling bushy beard grow out. 

‘Rey?’ Luke’s warm tones resound as the doors close behind her. ‘What are you doing here?’

She crosses the large room, carefully sitting in front of his desk with her hands in her lap.

‘I heard some good news,’ he says, clicking off his datapad. ‘That hard-ass Poe Dameron promoted you to Sergeant? Well deserved, surely?’

‘You don’t think it’s too soon? Officers only get assessed for rank promotion when they turn twenty-five.’

‘You’ve always been different.’ And he links his fingers together on the table. ‘But I suppose your recent advancement is not why you've come here?’

Rey takes a shaky breath, her hands clenching on her tights. It was easier when she was in the mineshaft—dealing with all the pain and suffering and wanting someone to pay for it, but as she faces him now, it’s much harder than she presumed it to be. She's loved Luke for as long as she can remember. Despite never seeing much of him since moving into the orphanage, he's always looked out for her in his own way. He’s the closest thing she’ll ever have to a parent.

She reaches into her pocket and places the datastick on his table, and when he looks at it with a confused curiosity, her courage finally returns to her. ‘Before I begin, please don’t deny it if it’s true. I want to keep whatever affection and respect I have for you intact, even if my feelings for everything else is going to shit.’

He frowns. ‘What is bothering you? Tell me everything.’

‘Why'd you lie about what happened to my parents? To my home?’ And her lips wobble, attempting to hold her ground. ‘I’m not from a neutral zone. I was born under the First Order’s administration. I have their fucking _emblem_ stamped on my birth records, so _please_ , tell me it’s not the Resistance forces who killed them. Tell me I’m being manipulated and it’s all a bloody mistake.’

Luke gives her a look as if his world has just been annihilated before his eyes. He leans back in his chair, scrubbing his palms onto his face, exhaling heavily. ‘It _was_ a mistake. _Our_ oversight that allowed a bad batch of enforcers to lead the takeover of Jakku. They used the same kind of violence that we’re trying to protect everyone from. By the time my team arrived, they'd lost control of themselves and forgot the values we shared.’

Rey’s voice is feral. ‘So, you’re concluding the massacre of the people in Jakku as victims of some bad apples in the barrel?’

‘The relevant culprits were reprimanded accordingly and stripped of their ranking. Those who were much deeper involved in the atrocities were executed for their crimes.’

‘We manage violence with more violence, then?’

He shakes his head. 'If you'll only believe me in one thing, just know that I only wanted you to have a better life. I didn’t know what the truth would do to you, and you were so _young_ then. I wanted to tell you when you were older, but when you turned fifteen, I was propelled into the responsibilities for the entire Resistance. _Now_ we have other junior commanders for better delegation, but back then, I was one of the few left after the deaths of the high-command.' There's sincerity in his words as he continues, ‘You were doing so well. I just didn’t want to take that away from you.’

‘You relied on my naivety as a child,’ Rey fiercely argues. ‘That time would pass and I wouldn’t be able to put things together. And sadly you were right, because I was so numb to life that I didn’t realise the truth of my existence was staring at me in the face while I was doing my job!’ And she gestures to her head implicitly to ensure Luke knows _exactly_ what she's talking about.

When he doesn’t respond, she folds her arms. ‘How'd you do it? How did I _not_ come up on the Resistance’s radar as a First Order inhabitant so they could issue a new identifier chip?’

‘I was originally from the tech division after all,’ Luke shrugs wearily. ‘I generated a code for your particular identification number. If you were scanned and an alert comes up, the code will immediately input an algorithm that will bypass it. These alerts are routed to my own security framework. No one else’s.’ 

‘Did you...’ and Rey’s tone trembles. ‘Did you _use_ me? Did you see it as I would one day become an advantage to infiltrate into their zones?’

‘ _Never._ I swear to you. That never crossed my mind at all.’

‘How can I trust anything you say now. Or anything the Resistance says? I checked our records on Zone Thirty-Five, and they documented it as a _peaceful_ transfer of a neutral sector into our governance. There's no mention of it being a First Order zone or that it was actually an invasion!’

And she hears Kylo’s voice purr affectionately in her ears—

_As they say, history is written by the victors._

Luke presses his knuckles to his mouth for a moment. Silence pass between them, knowing this confrontation will have a lasting impact on their relationship. Surprisingly, Rey finds no hatred within her, but she's lonelier than ever. This is still a defeat to her, and now she's losing Luke too. 

‘Who gave you this information?’ he finally asks, his eyes flick to the datastick on the table.

Rey’s eyes bore directly into Luke’s now, her pupils full blown with ferocity. ‘Someone whose existence you tried to erase.’

His eyebrows furrow slightly, but when he remains quiet, she continues, ‘When I went through the archives looking at Captain Han Solo’s file, it states he was killed during a mission and he leaves behind a wife and a _son_ , but when I attempted to retrieve that file on his kid, it requests an access code of Level Five. That's a high-command’s clearance, isn't it?’

‘Rey…’

‘I can’t find _any_ information about his son, apart from a small announcement made a few months after Han Solo’s funeral. A small unit was killed by a fuel explosion during a routine patrol in the outer zones. There were no survivors, but one of the enforcers on the obit was documented as Solo. No first name.’ And she exhales sharply, her nostrils flaring. 'Solo is not a very _common_ name.' 

Luke began to get edgy. ‘I can understand the need for your own history, but this will not be tolerated. _Do not_ dig up things that we've tried to move on from.’

‘Who is Kylo Ren and what is Han Solo to him?’

‘Why are you asking this?’

‘Because he seems to be the only one who cares enough to tell me the truth! Can you imagine how fucked-up that sounds considering who he is?’ Rey cries, her eyes starting to prickle. ‘And don’t start with the stupid interrogations about my allegiance, because I’ve been through this already, and I would rather kill myself than serve the First Order!’

Luke stands from his desk and turns away. His gaze stares out from the windows that overlook the Resistance compound, his hands clasped apprehensively behind his back.

Rey doesn’t care how long it will take. She'll wait forever if she has to.

His voice has a quiet sorrow when he finally speaks again. ‘His name is Benjamin Solo. He’s the son of my sister, Leia Organa and my late friend, Han Solo. He was a good kid, incredibly smart and he pissed off Han when he’d rather sit and read politics with his mother than go out exploring—’ and from the reflection in the window, she sees a sad smile forming on his face, ‘—but we all know Han adored that boy. Ben was a bright cadet as well, very agile and a shrewd strategist. He graduated earlier than most and made history being an officer at fifteen.’

‘Besides Han, I found no records of another Solo in the Resistance force.'

‘As you said, his existence was effectively deleted,’ Luke sighs. ‘That obit you found is a fake.’

‘But why? How did it end up like this?’

‘It was supposed to be a quick assignment. Han and his squad were supposed to do a prisoner exchange, just on the borders of a First Order occupied zone and a neutral sector. We were to handover a First Order spy we captured, and they were to handover one of our own.’

‘That wasn’t the case?’

‘No—it was a trap. There was no prisoner exchange from the First Order’s end, and neither from the Resistance. The captive that Han transported was just a phony and his squad of five men were outnumbered.' Luke squeezes the bridge between his eyes. ‘The high-command team knew it was a trap, but they sent Han anyway, because the rendezvous point in the neutral zone was near a powerful fuel refinery they wanted. With Han going there, his team’s tracker would feedback scoping and mapping data of the terrain into our systems. Normally, the boundaries would be highly fortified by First Order troops, but because this was an _apparent_ agreed prisoner exchange, Resistance forces would be allowed to cross the border.’

Luke turns back to Rey. ‘They didn’t give him the courtesy of a heads up about the prisoner. Han wasn’t prepared, and the entire squad was butchered. We never managed to recover all of their remains…’

Rey feels her muscles go rigid. ‘Why didn’t they just tell him the truth? Couldn’t they have deployed a stronger squadron for Han?’

‘A larger platoon for a simple prisoner exchange would be suspicious, and Han would've never agreed to involve an innocent as part of the mission. The less Han and his team knew, the better. The high-command didn’t want to tip off that they were surveying the energy site nearby, or the First Order would've seized it too.’ 

Rey's body trembles as she lifts a hand to swipe away the furious tears from the corner of her eyes. Something sour stabs into her chest when she remembers her words to _him_ —

_Why do you care? He was a Resistance enforcer. If anything, you should be celebrating his death._

There's a sharp bile taste when she speaks again, ‘I read what they said in his eulogy. They honoured Han’s sacrifice, stating his death will not be in vain as they'll now launch a full assault to capture that new energy source that will provide utilities to twenty zones under our administration.’ She shakes her head in horror. ‘They sent him to his death—over the need for territory and supply control.’

‘I know,’ Luke says remorsefully. ‘It all seems bleak, but they are things of the past now. There's still hope, and we’ve been working tirelessly for years to change things from within.’

‘How did Ky— _Ben_ find out about what really happened?’

‘He used Han’s security clearance and broke into our transmission logs. Some of them showed that Commander Mothma and Commander Ackbar ordered the prisoner to be swapped with a homeless. They were not willing to return the spy back to the First Order just yet. He confronted them demanding the truth, and they merely told him that difficult decisions are a part of war. _And_ he would be imprisoned for his illegal breach of high-command information.’

‘Did they arrest him?’

‘No, he disappeared after vandalising some things around the compound. The high-command team demanded that _all_ his data be wiped from the public system and he be stripped of his accolades. A punishment for his treasonous acts. I didn’t see Ben again until the security recordings of the assassination.’ And Luke’s shoulders droop, his hand rubbing his neck. ‘I suppose you could say, the rest is history.’

‘Where's Leia Organa now?’

‘She’s around, but she’s living a quieter life now. She’s left her role in the Trade Alliance and barely speaks to anyone, including me. I don’t think she’ll ever come out of her shell until her son returns home.’

‘What about you? Do you think he’ll ever come back?’

‘I’ve always believe there’s still good in him. That's why I’ve put a firm order that Kylo Ren is to be captured _alive,_ but I’m not going to be around forever, and if all else fails and the Resistance moves every effort to terminate him, his death may turn the tide of this conflict. I’ve studied the First Order tactics, and the soldiers rally behind him as he's their greatest fighter. Without him, they could weaken.’

‘We did this, didn’t we?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Just like you didn’t know what the truth would do to me, they didn’t know what it would do to Ben either. They didn’t realise the evil it would grow.’

Luke shakes his head with more conviction this time. 'That boy is my nephew, and I’m _always_ going to care about him in some way, but we are _not_ responsible for his actions. He made those choices on his own. It's what we _choose_ to do with the information that's given to us. Han was like a brother to me, but I didn’t go on a murderous rampage as Ben did.’

Her eyes are tenacious. ‘Maybe, but we cannot deny that the Resistance had a part in creating Kylo Ren.’

 **‘Commander Skywalker—’** the communicator on Luke’s table goes off. **‘Commander Sato is awaiting your presence in the control room.’**

‘I’ll be there shortly,’ Luke replies.

Rey swipes the datastick off his table and stands up, saluting respectfully to him.

‘Rey, don’t let this trouble who you are.' And he assures her, 'We'll speak again very soon. I promise.'

Just before she presses the button to the doors, she looks over her shoulder. ‘When I was eight, I knew a boy once. I know it’s not there anymore, but he was sitting in the old memorial gardens by the headquarter complex. He was tall, very unhappy and dressed from head to toe in black. He told me he hated what the garden represents, but he goes there to escape the crowds.’ And her tone flutters softly, ‘Was that him? Did I meet _Ben Solo_?’

From the corner of her eyes, she sees Luke give a slow, dejected nod. ‘Yes, that might've been him.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of Part II with kudos and comments! Always lovely to hear from the readers ❤️ 
> 
> Sources  
> [AD's Dark Summary of Life](http://www.businessinsider.com.au/adam-drivers-dark-summary-of-life-2014-8?r=US&IR=T)  
> [Temmin Wexley](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Temmin_Wexley)  
> [Ace Squadron](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ace_Squadron)  
> [Jun Sato](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jun_Sato)


	3. Special: Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **SURPRISE!** This is not Part III, but more of a prequel - so the chapter count has gone up by one. This special mini chapter is to add a layer of grief and tragedy to understand how Ben and Rey's connection runs deeper. This is really me procrastinating, but so pleased to see some of you really enjoying this.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** I've updated the tags. There will be instances where it’s quite clear they have some form of attraction and fascination about each other. Just be mindful when reading because they do have substantial age difference based on canon. It's like having a crush on your older sibling's friend lol.
> 
> ENJOY! ❤️
> 
> PS: Thanks to my friend for the moodboard!

* * *

It’s usually way past midnight when Rey’s shadow starts to creep around.

She knows she’ll be in _a lot_ of trouble if she’s found drifting around the living quarters after curfew. She can’t help it though, because she can’t sleep, and she hasn’t been able to for a very long time.

It’s already been three years since she was rescued by Luke Skywalker, but she still can’t seem to feel safe when she closes her eyes. Every time she does, she hears the blasted warning alarms ringing in her ears and the smell of blistering flesh. She hears a whisper from a woman telling her she'll return for her.

And each time she wakes up, Rey's always in tears. She’s strong enough not to burst out wailing and upset the other girls in dormitory, but not sufficiently resilient yet to shut her eyes again.

So, she sneaks out to wander instead.

***

Rey isn't ignorant. She knows her family is gone. They wasted no time telling her that on day one. There's no room for little girls screaming for their parents, so she had to toughen up quickly to survive.

She still calls Luke as ‘Mister Sergeant Skyguy’ during the rare occasions he comes to see her, and in his usual kind fashion, he'll drop down to her height and remind her gently that he's been promoted to ‘Mister _Captain_ Skyguy’ some time ago.

‘She’s very fond of you,’ the caretakers will always tell Luke when Rey bounds out of the shelter to meet him.

‘I know,’ he'll say with a twinkle in his cerulean eyes.

Rey lives with hundreds of other young children in an orphans’ shelter that is funded by the Resistance. Some of the kids are like her—the conflict between the First Order and the Resistance robbing them of their families, but some others have always been living on the streets with no recollection of who their parents ever were. They tell her that once they are old enough, they'll put ‘purpose’ to their lives and serve the Resistance as young cadets. For those who lost their livelihood to the enemy, it was their chance to get justice.

It was in this moment that Rey sensed her new home was nothing but a factory, churning out new recruits for the Resistance when they come of age at ten. And what better way to ensure they had a loyal, determined army by moulding it up with vulnerable young men and women who are looking to blame the First Order for their circumstances in life.

***

Rey’s hair has grown longer, now curling past her shoulders while her freckles become more noticeable.

Jessika Pava is a much older girl who used to be from the shelter as well, but still comes around to help out. She teaches Rey how to comb her hair and do a side braid. Jessika is already fifteen and tells Rey that she'll be graduating to a Resistance Officer in three years’ time.

And so, Rey comprehends that must be her own path as well.

Rey likes spending time with Jessika. She tells Rey about life outside the shelter and what's waiting for her after she leaves. She shares harrowing stories on how the girls must fight harder to stand out from the boys. Natural biology states that most males will usually have the more dominant physique—

But Jessika tells her brains and skills matter just as much.

‘There’s a boy,’ Jessika mentions one day. ‘He’s incredibly famous for being massive for his age. He actually graduated to be a Resistance Officer at the age of fifteen. That’s just _so_ unfair!’ And she claps her hands together in exasperation. ‘Can you imagine? They created a junior Officer role _just_ for him!’

Rey tilts her head and wrinkles her tiny nose. She’s always been a good listener.

‘It’s all about the potential of your bloodline,’ Jessika sighs. ‘That’s what you get when you’re the son of Captain Han Solo, so _of course_ he’d be well taken care of. Not to mention his mother is one of the Resistance’s biggest backer, Representative Leia Organa of the Trade Alliance. And they control majority of the resource distribution throughout our sector—in _both_ outer and inner zones.’

‘Who is Han Solo?’ Rey asks, nibbling on the ends of her hair absentmindedly.

‘Hmm...’ Jessika pauses. ‘All in due time. You’ll learn about him in the future when you become a cadet. He’s one of the greatest squadron leaders of the Resistance. A hero with no fear.' And she shrugs kindly. 'Who knows—if you’re good enough, you may report into his team one day.’

‘Is he like Mister Skyguy?’

‘Who?’

‘Luke Skyguy.’

‘You mean, Luke Skywalker?’ and Jessika smiles. ‘Solo's been around longer than Skywalker, but yes, they both have divisions of their own.’

Rey lazily sways on the chair she's seated on, her mind already drifting off.

‘So, did you learn anything new today?’ and Jessika kisses the top of her head, smoothening out the tiny stray hairs. 

***

Food sometimes becomes scarce in the shelter, especially when the conflict suddenly escalates to violent heights and all available resources are routed to the frontlines to fuel the enforcers who risk their lives to keep them safe. Rey doesn’t show it, but she hates it when this happens, because those piercing warning sirens will now resound in her head while she’s awake too.

Rey understands Jessika’s frustrations in her own way. She's never been naturally submissive. It would take a lot to get her to be a doormat. She fights like an animal to get her share of the rations. Not only does she fend off other girls, but boys as well.

It wasn’t a miracle at first. She did limp away on some days empty handed with bruises, but her spirit grew strong.

She's always been a sturdy, feral child, and losing her parents at such a tender age only serves to stoke that fiery nature higher. It wasn’t long before she became somewhat of a vigilante in her group of children—defending those who are too weak on their own and opposing those who are thoughtless enough to prey on them. Jessika laughs hysterically when Rey tells her she has to write ‘I WILL NOT BE NAUGHTY AND UNLADYLIKE’ a hundred times on the chalkboard because she almost bit the ear off one of the larger boys in the group. All for a piece of bread and some cold soup.

‘You’re a wild thing, honey,’ and Jessika cups Rey’s cheeks in her hands affectionately. ‘You’ll fit in just fine once you become a cadet.’

***

Unbeknownst to Rey, the day Jessika doesn’t visit the shelter, is the day of Captain Han Solo’s funeral.

She senses the atmosphere is different. Some of the officers who ran the shelter are called away and essential caretaking and meal distributions are left to the responsibilities of the eldest group of children. The sky is gloomier than usual, and Rey holds out her tiny hand to the gentle breeze, feeling the droplets of rain trickle onto her palm.

When night falls, she can’t fall asleep as always, so she pulls back her covers and puts on her shoes. She rakes the brush through her hair the way Jessika taught her and braids her brown locks over her shoulder. 

While the rain stopped, the clouds haven’t dispersed, so there's no moonlight to brighten the way for her like before. She feels her way through the shelter, careful enough not to wake any of the caretakers and pushes out the main doors. The shelter is just on the edge of the Resistance headquarters’ compound, which she usually doesn’t stray too far away from—

But for some reason, tonight felt unusual.

She’s small enough to remain undetected from patrolling guards.

The compound is colossal; housing not only the orphan’s shelter and the command centre, but also vehicle hangars, training centres and living quarters for the cadets and officers on the other end. The entire stretch of land is fenced in by towering, concrete walls that are enforced by additional hardened bases and barbed wires. If she wasn’t made aware of what this place actually is, she might have thought she's in a cage. 

As she reaches the heavy doors of the headquarters, she notices a tiny pathway on the side of the complex that's cornered off with industrial steel fencing. She could see trees and plants through the bars, which is _odd_ to her given frondescence is usually more common in outer zones. They are too deep in the inner sectors for this to be organic growth.

Approaching the fence, she notices it's unlocked. There's a sign erected on the gate that she squints at, but she can’t read the words well enough yet—those inscriptions that have been so carefully engraved into the cold plaque. To understand the full weight of its meaning.

She only knows it's a place that will have grass and flowers.

> **THE MEMORIAL GARDENS**
> 
> _To remember those we have lost_
> 
> _You and your sacrifice will never be forgotten_
> 
> _The freedom you have courageously fought to uphold_
> 
> _We will continue to honour what you have died to give us_

She pushes past the metal entrance and ambles in, following the brown brick road that leads down to the garden she's searching for.

She's never seen anything like it. The grandeur sight of the gleaming water fountain surrounded by a ring of thick shrubs, the details of carvings and intricate patterns that embellishes the structure are all breathtaking to her childlike senses. The quiet flow of the water streaming across the marbled foundations soothes the wildness within her. As she approaches the bushes, she sees many delicate little insects—some of which appear to glow slightly as they flutter among the shadows while others are dazzling cobalt butterflies. It delights her wonderous mind as one of them lands on the tip of her fingers. She settles down on the cold slates, stretching her feet out in front of her.

Suddenly, Rey hears a sharp movement. 

Her skin prickles as she turns slowly to look up, her gaze moving across the fountain to see a tall figure carefully seated on a bench. She instantly knows it’s a much older male from his build. She should feel afraid, but she doesn’t. In fact, she’s rooted in place as she stares back at him with the same audacity that she shows the boys back in the shelter. As her eyes adjust through the darkness, her instincts tell her he’s been there for some time, silently observing her.

And the sound he made was no accident. He did it to let her know he's there.

‘What are you doing here?’ his voice is low, but imperious.

When she doesn’t answer, he stands up and _finally_ , a tinge of fear does break through her. He's almost thrice her height, but Jessika did tell her that boys generally grow into their stature much later, so she assumes he's likely close to twenty years of age. Her body's still frozen as he strides across the pathway to stand in front of her.

‘Are you a mute, or just deaf?’ he frowns, looking down at her. ‘Or both?’

‘No,’ she finally answers.

He bends down to her eye-level, like the way Luke does for her, and stares at her carefully. ‘So, you _can_ talk.’ His eyes are so profoundly obsidian, it actually frightens her. ‘Do you have _any_ idea what kind of sickening place this is?’

‘This is a garden,’ she answers rebelliously, refusing to let anyone think of her as witless.

He snorts unkindly. ‘This is a tomb, you silly girl. A heedless effort endeavoured by our leaders to pay false respects to those who have stupidly given their life to their cause. So they can brush aside any accountability for their actions. So they may go on with their _damn_ crusade.’ 

Rey shakes her head, unable to grasp the full extent of what he’s saying. While there are some words he expresses which are unfamiliar to her, she flinches slightly from one of them, for she knows it's a curse. She’s heard it many times from the spineless boys she’s beaten into surrender back at the shelter.

He looks back at her, his face stiff.

It's in this moment that she notices his eyes are red. The lower rims of the glands are red and puffy from excessive crying while the skin under his eyes are bruised from absence of sleep. His bottom lip carries a slight quiver, as if from an unknown agony that he desperately conceals from the world. She’s not a stranger to the act of weeping, but she's confused at how intensely empathetic she feels for this unhappy boy.

‘Why are you crying?’ she asks before she can stop herself. ‘Are you sad?’

His head immediately snaps backwards from her, as if he was struck and his eyes sear against hers with a rage that makes her skin tingle. Her eyes widen as she notices his chest heaving deeply, as if her question punched him in the gut and now, he’s breathless. He glares at her for a moment before his expression falls back into the same deadpan front. ‘Interesting. Not a single person asked me today if I was alright. Not even my own mother—’ and his eyes flick back to her. 'But _you_ did.’

He shakes his head after a while, as if to disregard any further thoughts and spreads his expansive palm. The butterflies are immediately attracted to the warmth of his hand, their graceful flapping coming to a halt atop his skin. He shifts to sit down heavily on the ground beside her.

‘You like these?’

Rey nods.

And when she soundlessly moves closer to him to examine the tiny cluster of bugs that have settled on his hand—till her skinny shoulders touches his arm, she senses his body go rigid. There's no wickedness in her movements, but purely compelled from the curiosity of inspecting the wonders of natural life. It’s as if the boy has a magnetic influence to her biological pole, and she finds herself gravitating towards him. Perhaps it’s in the purity of her nature not to be socially aware of expected conduct, but when she feels his muscles start to relax again, she thinks it probably just takes time to get used to being in close proximity with one another—

Other than her standard reasoning of kicking the shit out of someone of course.

‘Where are you from?’ he asks her.

‘The orphanage.’

‘Ah…’ he nods sympathetically. ‘And how long you've been there?’

‘Since I was five.’

‘How old are you now?’

She slants her head, as if attempting to do the calculation in her head. ‘They told me I’ll be eight this year.’

‘ _Way_ too young...’ he mumbles to himself.

‘What about you?’

He smiles darkly. "Old enough to know better.'

Rey wrinkles her forehead in confusion at his words before pressing on, ‘Are you an officer?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘A good fighter too?’

He chuckles, ‘Good enough to keep you safe.’ And he curiously arches an eyebrow. ‘You know of another?’

‘Jessika,’ Rey nods eagerly. ‘She's also from the orphanage. She’s fifteen and she said she'll become an officer in three years. Do you know her?’

He rests his chin on his knuckle. ‘I don’t think I’m familiar with a Jessika. If she’s fifteen as you say, she'd be my junior. I would've left the cadet academy by the time she began.’

‘She’s very pretty,’ Rey says quietly. ‘Prettier than me. She’s got long black hair and brown eyes. She taught me how to braid my hair as well.’ And Rey shrugs as she points to her hairstyle. ‘She teaches me to be better at things other than punching boys in the shelter.’

And she becomes completely mesmerised when she hears him break out into a rich, resonant laugh. It vibrates through her bones so deeply that she doesn’t realise her lips have parted, her eyes becoming transfixed on him for a little _too_ long—

Even after he stops laughing.

He blinks a few times when he sees her evident stare, clearing his throat awkwardly. ‘Well, it’s good to know you’re strong enough to survive in this savage world, little girl.’

When Rey remains silent, her expression slightly forlorn, she notices he swallows a little before his hand reaches out, slowly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears. ‘I’m sure you’ll grow up to be equally attractive as well, princess.’

When her skin starts to flush through the darkness from his endearments and the brief brush of his fingers, she sees him pull back sharply.

‘Did you run away from the shelter? Is that why you’re here?’ he hastily asks. 

Rey looks up at the sky, noticing the clouds have finally cleared, permitting the moon to illuminate their surroundings. ‘No. I can’t sleep.’

‘Because?’

‘I don’t feel sleepy.’

‘Why not?’ and he snickers slightly. ‘Isn’t it way past your bedtime?’

Rey regards him for a moment before she looks down at her knees. Her fingers pick at the hem of her clothing material, clumsily pulling at a loose thread. ‘When I close my eyes, I remember scary things about the night I became an orphan. I can hear people screaming. I can smell them burning. And I know my family burns too.’ 

Minutes pass in silence. She looks up to see him staring at her with a troubled expression.

‘Who told you this?’

‘The man who rescued me. He said my parents are gone and a fire took them when my home was attacked by the enemy.' Rey shrugs again, seemingly unbothered. ‘And then he brought me here.’

‘You’re surprisingly—’ and he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, ‘—well-adjusted, considering…’ and he trails off.

‘What does that word mean?’

‘It means you turned out alright,’ and he pats the top of her head gently.

‘They told me I had to stop crying, or I wouldn’t survive in the shelter. The girls will steal your food and the boys will beat you up.’

‘So, you decided to do the beatings instead?’

‘I only help those who can’t help themselves,’ and she scowls. ‘It’s not fair to pick on someone weaker.’

He gives her a smug smile, shaking his head in amusement.

And Rey looks unabashedly into his eyes. ‘When I become an officer as well, will you be my friend, like Jessika is? I don’t really have any friends at the orphanage.’

‘You mean when you’re eighteen?’ A strange smirk crosses his face. ‘Sure, princess. I’ll be anything you want.’

Perhaps Rey may have still been too young at the time to recognise what his words imply. Every sentence that comes out from his mouth is controlled, calculated and measured, but there's a sense of devastation in his voice that seems to slice right through her raw compassion for others.

And there's something else he has within him. Something that grows in her as well—

Loneliness.

***

‘You like flowers?’ he asks her.

‘Why?’

He rubs his neck as he yawns slightly. ‘Girls at the training centre often tell me to get them flowers, so I was wondering if you might like them too.’

Rey glowers, unsure of why that comment seems to annoy her more than it should. ‘I like the ones they call as roses. The caretakers make us read during the day. Most of the stories about pretty girls will have roses in them.’

‘Is that what you want to be?’ he grimaces in disbelief. ‘A pretty girl?’

‘I think every girl wants that,' she sulks. ‘But I don’t like the rescue bit. I don’t need some stupid boy to save me.’

He laughs hard at that. ‘Indeed, and you’ll mature into something more than that.’ He tilts his head at her. ‘Something far more… _exquisite_.’

‘What does that mean?’

He shakes his head. ‘Come, let me show you something.’

He stands up, brushing away the tiny soil particles and blades of grass that stuck to his pants. She struggles to keep up with his large strides as they go around the fountain. He stops in front of another steel fence, separating a tiny patch of land from the fountain patio with an additional gate. When he pushes it open, she's greeted with a vast and vibrant flower bed, blooming with various species, most of which she doesn’t recognise.

‘This flower garden was donated by my mother many years ago, as remembrance for those who fell in the Siege of Alderaan—her birthplace.’ And he continues to speak in a _perfect_ recital, ‘Before the First Order rose to power, there was a powerful military junta known as the Galactic Empire who sought to control many important trade routes by conquering several key zones. Alderaan, also known as Zone Forty-Six, was one of them. While the invasion was unsuccessful in the end, many inhabitants were killed in the incursion. Each flower is meant to represent a soul lost.' His voice falter slightly, ‘But we remain fools. Unwilling to learn from our former mistakes. Still raising the youth to a life of combat. Still sending us into battle. More souls are lost. Negotiations for ceasefire are put on the back-burner. And so, the violent cycle of life goes on.’

Rey senses something's hurting him, so she tries to change the subject. ‘Your family must be rich to be giving this for free.’ She bends her knees slightly, leaning in to sniff one of the open blossoms.

‘We’re doing alright,’ his smile is taut. ‘Anyway, you’ll learn your history when you’re old enough to enter into the academy.’

She watches him crouch for a second, his eyes sweeping through the darkness before he delicately picks off a flower and gives it to her. She takes it between her fingers and avoids the thorns, though she's completely wonderstruck by his gesture.

A blood red rose.

Rey’s fingers brush against the petals. 'You like history?'

He chuckles, ‘I’ve always been more of a reader than a soldier. Much to my father’s displeasure, but to my mother’s delight.’

But then, he goes still again. He squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if he’s restraining himself from spilling over. She has a strange, unfamiliar desire to be by his side, so she continues to stay with him as he grapples with an inner turmoil he appears to be wrestling with. Suddenly, Ben’s head snaps up and looks behind them. He ponders for a moment, as if he hears a sound that she didn’t.

He finally turns back to her. ‘I think it’s time to go. They're looking for me.’

‘Who?’

‘My uncle,’ he shakes his head dismissively. ‘And other unimportant people.’

‘Okay...’ Rey nods slowly and she stands there motionless, wondering if he’s waiting for her to leave or he'll be the first one to walk away.

He searches her expression briefly, almost trying to work out what she might want from him. ‘Do you want me to bring you back to the shelter?’

It’s not exactly what Rey's thinking of. She’s absolutely _fine_ going back by herself. She’s done that every single time she sneaks out, but she has this unknown, indescribable urge not to be parted from him. It's like a strange bond has formed between them through this brief encounter.

This is something else to her. 

‘Yes.’

* * *

As Ben watches the girl walk up the steps to the doors of the orphanage, she turns back to look at him. ‘Do you go to the garden every night?’

‘Not every night. I just happen to be there today.’

‘Why do you go there if you don’t like it?’

His body stiffens, realising she's referencing to his earlier comment that the place is _sickening_.

And he still stands by it. It's a hypocritical piece of shit and a waste of good space that could have been put to far better use. He was out of his mind when he got there tonight, torn apart at his core from the pain of his father’s death, and feeling outraged by the distasteful speeches spoken at his funeral by the very people who'd rather continue their warmongering ways than scale back fruitless campaigns. He was ready to throw one of his infamous tempers and wreck the place with all its vulgar, flamboyant frills. He wanted to raze the entire garden to the ground, until he saw his mother’s flower beds for Alderaan.

And he sees _this_ girl, quietly creeping in and unaware of his presence at the time.

He hesitates. ‘It’s the quietest part of the compound. I go there to read sometimes.’

‘You’re not carrying a book with you.’

He folds his arms across his chest, his thumb grazing over his bottom lip. His deep tawny eyes focus on the tiny child that stands before him. If he thought she's like an enigma to him, she’s a pretty fucking nosy one. Nothing gets past her. She asks rudely blatant questions. She doesn’t understand personal space. She knows no boundaries.

This tiny beast of a girl is _captivating_.

He was being cheeky before, but perhaps even he has yet to be aware of just _how_ interested he is. When this girl turns eighteen, he’d be curious to see the young lady she will grow into. Should he keep an eye on her when she joins as a cadet? Will she still remember him when she becomes a full-fledged enforcer? Maybe he's more like his rascal father than he thought. After all, Han Solo was thirty years of age when he first met Leia Organa, who was just shy of twenty at the time, but if his mother knew the kind of inappropriate thoughts Ben has in his mind about this girl. A child literally born a decade after him. Leia would slap some sense into him again, and he’s got a lumpy head to prove it.

Maybe he’s more fucked-up than he thought.

 _Fantastic, you asshole,_ he thinks _. You’ve now graduated to making your first meaningful connection ever, and with no surprises there, it’s with an eight-year old!_

‘That garden allows me to get away from people. There were too many around me today. I wanted to be alone.’

Her mouth twists a little. ‘Sorry, if me being there spoiled that for you. If I can’t sleep again, I won’t go to the gardens.’

Ben feels his body liquify, his jaw unclenches and his arms loosening down to his sides. He's so used to the pretences and superficial conversations with his peers and the rest of the Resistance high-command, that her uninhibited nature is like plunging into a hot, spring bath when typically, he paddles through icy, fresh water. He bends down to her eye-level once more, careful to keep an adequate distance between them. From what he sees on her face, he can tell she likes it when he stoops lower to speak closer to her.

‘I showed you the blooms my mother bestowed, so you can return again. The guards do patrol the gardens, but they don’t go further past the fountain, so you’ll go unnoticed in there. It won’t be too good if they catch you sneaking around at such late hours.’

‘Okay,’ she says, nodding slowly.

‘Now, off to bed,’ and he draws back up to his full height. He watches her go up the steps lightly, pushing open the doors with her tiny arms and slipping inside. She looks back at him one more time before she closes the doors.

Ben stuffs his hands in his pockets as he starts walking back to his family’s quarters at the far end of the compound. Soon, his shoulders collapse once more, his body falling cold as he thinks of his home, now stripped of his father’s existence.

‘One last job, kid,’ Han had said to him before leaving that day. ‘And then I promise, it'll just be the three of us. I’ll ask for a damn desk position. I’ll be around so often, your mother and you will get sick of me.’

Ben never saw his father again. They told him Han’s body—along with the rest of his squad—was so mangled beyond recognition, that the caskets were ordered not to be opened during the funeral service. He sat through his father’s tribute by the high-command feeling rage and bitterness. There's something strange about the way his father’s death has been explained, and he wasn’t going to let that instinct be ignored. 

It's only when Ben got inside his bedroom, washed himself up and crawled under the sheets that he thinks about _her_ again, and he realises—

They never asked for each other’s names.

* * *

‘I met a boy,’ Rey tells Jessika one day.

‘You meet boys every day, don’t you?’ Jessika smiles at her while she kneads the bread dough with her strong arms.

They just received a generous donation from an anonymous individual. The children are ecstatic of course, because the goodies are to die for; various confectionary goodness, fruits, bread, rice, flour and an assortment of salted meats. It's enough to last them for almost a month. It could have been anyone, and Rey would have continued her day being none the wiser—

But her sharp eyes notice a red rose, subtly tied with the ropes that held the large parcel together. She desperately wants it to replace the wilted one by her bedside, but before she can snatch it up, the other girls were already fighting over it. It doesn’t matter, because her heart feels warm and her mind's dizzy with thoughts of him. She's been thinking about him a lot, and this act of kindness only leads his presence to overwhelm her further. 

Rey hesitates at Jessika’s response. She wasn’t sure if she should be telling anyone that she’s been sneaking out for a nightly stroll around the compound. ‘I—I think I was walking in my sleep, but I found a flower garden with a fountain the other night, and there was a boy there.’

Jessika frowns, her movements slowed. ‘Are you telling me, you left the shelter after curfew and walked into the memorial gardens?’

Rey nods.

‘Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?’ Jessika chides. ‘Something could've happened to you. I’m surprised the guards on patrol didn’t catch you!’ And she puts her hands on her hips, her fingers dusted with flour. ‘How often does this happen?’

‘Not often...'

‘Please, don’t do it again,’ Jessika huffs. ‘You may be in the compound, but there are all kinds of crazies out there. What if there was a sudden emergency warning? You’d be caught somewhere, away from the safety of this shelter. You could be in danger and no one would know.’

Rey pouts, ‘Fine.’

Then, Jessika’s face softens. ‘Just know that I care about you a lot, my sweet. And _now_ —what’s this about meeting a boy in the gardens?’

Rey bites her lip before speaking fast, ‘He’s a very tall boy. I think he’s much older than me. He wasn't very nice at first because he was sad, but now he’s my friend.’ And she tilts her head, a little unsure. ‘Well, he said he _will be_ my friend—like you are—when I become an officer.’

Jessika’s mouth forms a thin line. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. He seems…’ and she trails off. 

‘What?’

‘I don’t think he’s safe for you to spend time with.’

‘Well, I don’t even know his name. I just know that his family is rich and they gave a free flower patch to the gardens.’

‘Hmm...’ Jessika ponders. ‘Lots of members of the public have donated to the memorial gardens before, so it could be anyone. Do you remember what it was for?’

Rey thinks hard, but her mind comes up empty. He told her so many things, but she’s guilty of having a short-attention span. Too preoccupied by the experience of seeing true greenery for the first time.

‘No…’

Jessika taps a finger to her lips. ‘Maybe one day, you can point it out to me in the garden next time, and I can find out who he is, if you’d like.’ And she give a stern look. ‘But it’s _only_ so you know his name. _Not_ for you to go looking for him.’

***

At times, life in the shelter passes at an agonising pace.

It's like Rey’s old soul is trapped in a younger body, for she could not relate to the exuberance of the others within her age group. She’s far more earnest—something the other children akin to as a boring sort of character, but perhaps they can be forgiven as she was hardened by life in a much harsher way than most of them were.

She's always felt much older than an average eight-year-old. She'd so often sit quietly, cluttered with her own thoughts. There's serenity in solitude for her.

Just like how it is for _him_.

***

Today, the orphanage is celebrating its five-hundredth year anniversary of its establishment by the Resistance.

That means—much to Rey’s irritation—she has to wear a dress, and not just any dress, but a white _lace_ dress. She’s fine with combing back her hair, twisting it to the side before fastening her locks with some daisy clips, but the long fabric of the ensemble always itches at her limbs. She has to wear blasted lace socks too, with those absolutely wretched Mary Jane shoes that makes her feel like a plaything.

They are to greet the visiting members of the high-command team politely as the caretakers serve them tea, and launch into some self-praising custom about how wonderful the orphanage has held up. Or how grateful the children are to have a home, and how they can’t wait to start serving the cause for the greater good.

However, when the guests arrive, there's some confusion as it is only a representative that shows up, which is _odd_ , as the high-command team has _never_ failed to pay pleasantries for this engagement. There are hushed utterances about a disturbance at the command centre—

Something about someone’s son running amok in the headquarters.

It's dusk when Rey decides she wants to visit the gardens again. She hadn't gone as far as the gardens since that day as strangely enough, she's been able to sleep much better since. The nightmares are still there, but they are tolerable now. She’d still wake with slightly wet lashes, but it's nothing she can't handle, and she finds herself drifting back off to sleep again with more ease.

As she creeps out the doors and quietly move through the compound, she feels the back of her scalp tingle. There's something strange in the atmosphere again.

Something _sinister_.

When she reaches the gates, she checks to see they're still unlocked. She takes a slow breath, inhaling deeply the crisp smell of grass and soil. Immediately, her mind is soothed when she hears the gentle trickling of the water from the fountain as she makes her way to it. She’s relieved when she sees there's no one around.

Rey does something different this time. She lifts up the lengths of her dress, stepping onto the ring of shrubs that painstakingly adorns in a circle around the water fountain. Her shoes are soiled from the dry mud between the roots of the bushes, but she doesn’t care. Even the edges of her white lace dress are not spared from staining, no matter how carefully she bunches it between her fingers. She sits herself down on the marble edges, her tiny legs dangling, slowly dipping her fingers into the water. It’s chillier than she expected and she wants to know the feeling of a warm bath. The shelter’s water source is poorly heated, and Rey forces herself to endure the icy showers every day, her teeth sometimes still chattering even at breakfast—

But the temperature of the water is not what makes the hair on her neck stand. It's as if she has natural instincts to realise there's someone else there. That she isn't alone and someone's watching her.

She lifts her head to turn around—

—and sees _him_ standing right behind, her small hands still submerged in the cool waters. Small rays of sunlight still peak from the horizon, and she can see him even clearer now; his gangly frame, pale skin, wavy ebony hair and tall nose. He even has moles scattered across his face and neck, almost like a companion to her distinctive freckles.

Dressed completely in black, the boy before her is different. An unsettling maliciousness has fallen upon him and any lightness or humour she once saw in his eyes has now been extinguished, all but replaced by something icy and menacing. He towers over her, and she can only imagine this is how magnificent beasts in the stories she's read before must have been fashioned after. He's glaring at her in surprise, completely alarmed by her presence.

For an even stranger reason, she can’t seem to look away. 

His voice is like hardened steel, his eyes sweeping over her appearance. ‘What the _fuck_ are you wearing?’

She frowns, her tiny button nose wrinkles at his crudity. It doesn’t upset her, but he’s usually more refined than this. Something has unhinged him. Something is hurting him again. Unlike the other night when she felt he was being torn apart; he seems more resolute now. As if he found answers to his questions for some ominous purpose that she's not privy to.

‘It’s the shelter’s five-hundredth year,’ she whispers, a gradual anxiety creeping into her.

He suddenly swoops down on her, and without giving much thought, his hand grabs firmly at her elbow and pulls her away from the fountain. She almost trips on her dress as he takes her back up the pathway, stopping just in front of the main steel gates.

He’s on his knees this time, his palms gripping her shoulders as he leans in to her. ‘Don’t come back here again.’

‘But you told me I could.’

‘I _know_ what I said,’ his voice is still soft, but there is an edge of fire beneath. ‘But it—it’s not safe. Not anymore.’

‘Why?’ she’s utterly confused.

‘ _Because—_ ’ he hisses, ‘I say so. I don’t want to see you here _ever_ again. Tell me you understand what I’m saying!’ And he takes an unsteady breath before urging, ‘I need you to do this for me.’

She looks into his eyes and finds that she’s terrified by what she sees there. She sees absolutely _nothing_ , but an empty, black abyss. A dying star that's starting to collapse onto itself, destroying everything in its path. It invites her in, purring all the ways it will obliterate her.

‘Promise me.’

‘I promise...’ her response is hushed. This seems to make him ease a little, but as their gazes still hold on to each other, she asks, ‘Who are you?’

He seems caught off-guard for a second before he shakes his head. ‘Nobody. I’m no one.’

‘Can I know—’

‘ _No—_ ’ his answer is immediate. ‘I don’t want you to know me, nor do I want to know you,’ and while she feels her throat tighten from hearing that, she notices the rims of his eyes are swollen again. ‘I don’t want you to remember me. Not like this.’

‘But—’

‘I’m leaving this fucking place.' And his forehead drops to her tiny shoulder, his eyes glancing down to her shoes. ‘I will _not_ continue living this fucking shitshow any longer.’ 

Rey instantly knows that the _place_ he means is more than just the garden. Her head spins, muddled with unfamiliar, excruciating emotions that she's unable to comprehend. It’s not like she hasn’t had scrapes or nasty cuts before. Hell, she’s even broken an arm from fighting one of the boys—

But they have never distressed her like this. She has never felt this way before.

When he speaks again, his tone has shifted into something unrecognisable, but slow and discreet enough for her ears only. 'The day I am seen again, is when I’m going to _kill—_ ’ and he spits out each word with a certain viciousness, ‘— _Every. Last. One of them_.’ As his chest heaves from the intensity of his outburst, he whispers, ‘Since they want a war, I’ll fucking give them one.’

Her body is shaking, but his strong hands are still holding her in place. She doesn’t realise that she’s quietly in tears, until he looks back up to her face and his thumb gently swipes the droplets off her cheeks.

If she's scared, she's not sure of what. If she's upset, she doesn’t know why.

And the rest of it becomes somewhat of a blur to her. While Rey's always been much smaller than other children, that's never stopped her from letting others hear her spirit roar—

—but when she feels his arms circle around her, her body is remarkably pliant. He hooks his hands below her armpits and lifts her up with such ease, as if she weighs nothing. He clutches her against his chest as his arms cage around her dress and legs. She hears the steel gates creak as he pushes it open. She closes her eyes to listen to his slow, heavy footsteps as he carries her across the compound. Her tiny hands clench at the fabric of his shirt as her head rests on his shoulder. She tries to memorise his smell, but she knows it won’t last. She's cried before, especially when she wakes up from a particularly jarring nightmare and she scurries off to the bathroom to burst into muted sniffles to calm herself—

But she's never let anyone see her in tears. Not until him.

He puts her down in front of the orphanage steps. Unlike previously, he doesn’t bend down to look at her. He stands there motionless, his body tense and his hands firmly clenched by his side. She glances back up at him, her neck straining due to his absurd height. His lips open slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but whatever he must have seen on her face, it causes him to remain silent.

She thinks he’s staying away because she’s afraid of him, and that’s why she’s crying. She can’t find her voice to tell him that isn’t true.

When she sees him take a couple of steps backward, she's incapable of moving forward to close the growing void between them.

And with his eyes still on her, he finally turns away, disappearing into the night.

***

Rey plummets into a terrible fever for almost three weeks.

Her body aches horribly. She temporarily loses her voice. She’s constantly coughing out ghastly phlegm and her nose doesn’t stop running. She’s never had such a severe temperature before. She doesn’t know why and the caretakers aren’t sure of the reason either. Even when her fever finally breaks, she has no appetite and the cough remains longer than expected.

It’s like her body is trying to expel something out of her system.

Something other than the sickness.

***

When Rey finally becomes well again and Jessika visits her, it’s a beautiful day outside.

Rey is sitting by the window with a book when Jessika brings her some sweets from outside the compound. She gives Rey a hug and a kiss, telling her she looks thin. The fever has made Rey exhausted, and she’s stayed quiet for the past few days since her recovery. Jessika has just started to follow the seniors enforcers for some standard patrol duties around the block. It’s mostly mundane with heaps of paperwork to do after, especially if you do locate some characters who have discrepancy in their identification.

It’s only during lunch when Rey finally says something tangible. 

‘Can you bring me to the gardens? I want to show you the flower patch.’

‘The flower patch?’

‘So that you can tell me who the boy is...’ Rey twirls the spoon in her soup. ‘Remember?’

When Jessika doesn’t reply, Rey looks up at her to see her companion’s expression alter from bafflement to pained. They are seated on the floor in the girl’s dormitory, as Rey’s recent illness has caused the caretakers to isolate her from the rest of the children during mealtimes. Jessika places her soup bowl on the floor and reaches out to brush back Rey’s hair from her forehead, still slightly damp from her body’s attempts to cool the fever.

‘Rey—’ Jessika’s voice is always unfailingly gentle. ‘The entire garden and fountain is gone. It burned down a few weeks ago. Someone destroyed _everything_ , including that beautiful inscription at the front of the gates.’

Rey feels like her body has died, because she can’t seem to move.

And when Jessika says the next line, her voice seems to echo from the other side of the world. 'Heard rumours it was a young guy. I’m so sorry, my sweet, but if there's even a _possibility_ that this is the boy you’re looking for, he’s dangerous and unstable. You should forget about him.’

***

Childhood is a fleeting second for some, so Rey _does_ forget about him eventually.

Two years later, when she finally joins the Resistance as a young cadet, the ambience in the headquarters takes a bleaker turn. There were announcements declaring that the _entire_ high-command has been killed in a horrifying assassination plot. The killer has yet to be brought to justice, and it's quickly declared that Luke Skywalker has become one of the few transitory leaders in charge amid the chaos.

As her youth flew by her and a routine set in, the shadow of a boy she once knew for a passing moment became a tiny, forgettable stain in her memories—

But some stains can never be removed, and they leave marks. Perhaps he unintentionally became her first bitter taste of how cruel forming attachments can be.

And it spread like a plague in her mind.

***

When Rey turns fifteen, she finishes her cadet training and learns that Luke now leads the new high-command team. There is a sense of apprehension within the compound, and the troops are told that _despite_ their successful campaigns against the enemy, a powerful new leader in the First Order is rising—

A mysterious and violent young man with a strange name.

She’s walking along the hallways one day when she sees a group of young enforcers huddling together, whispering among themselves. 

‘— _Kylo Ren.'_

'—Is that his real name?'

‘—That’s what his armies call him in the broadcast.’

***

When Rey turns eighteen, she’s one of the few who leaves the academy with distinction. Her specialised skills include espionage with precise application of; rapid assault, lethal force and unarmed combat. The life of a Resistance’s enforcer became good for her. Her nature continued to grow resilient, her mental strength robust and her skills sharpened. She became a fierce warrior and is known to never surrender. She’s assigned a new partner to work with—the popular and well-liked Finn Isaac. 

There's no room for reminiscences of a boy from her younger years—

But all who came after him paid the price for his reckless indiscretions.

She never returns any affections. She can’t integrate her feelings with those around her. Sex and emotional intimacy are mutually exclusive, a rather cursory experience that she has very little interest in, other than an occasional stress-relief mechanism she capitulates to. The only way the blood in her veins roars to life is when she’s running on adrenaline in the battlefield, her gun sliding around her fingers and she’s fighting the enemy.

***

When Rey turns twenty, Finn throws her a wild celebration with a shit ton of alcohol to go around.

He invites plenty of cute guys from his batch, and _even_ Poe, her hot-headed squad leader shows up and stays for more than one drink. Poe's unusually sweet to her that night, charismatic as always, and she notices his hand lingers around her shoulder a little longer than usual. When Finn gets super wasted and his fiancé arrives to help bring him back, she observes him clumsily draping an arm over Rose Tico, tenderly kissing her temple. Rey wonders if she’ll survive this conflict long enough to find someone like that for her own. Jessika stops by to have some cake and gives her the latest hand communicators the Resistance has been working on as a birthday present.

Some of the younger officers take notice of Rey. She’s a natural beauty after all, but she doesn’t pay attention to kids. She _does_ go back with one of the charming seniors that night, but when he tries to give her a love bite after they fucked, she instinctively knees him in the balls. She and Jessika will laugh for hours about it the next day.

A month later, Rey will give a progress report to Poe about her dealings with the Rodians in the First Order’s territory. With the impending possibility of Kylo Ren being at a scarcely secured location in a neutral zone, the time felt right to strike harder. Both Finn and her will be the first to infiltrate the scene.

And Benjamin Solo—the boy who unknowingly broke her heart for the first time—will _finally_ begin to claw back out from the depths of Rey’s mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Dark Side & Light Side imagery here used for Ben and Rey in celebration of the Force.  
> You like? Let me know! Kudos and comments are my lifeeeee ❤️ Let's buckle up for the finale next chapter!
> 
> Sources  
> [Hero With No Fear](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hero_With_No_Fear)  
> [Skyguy](http://starwarsencyclopedia.fandom.com/wiki/SkyGuy)  
> [Ben Solo's Blue Butterflies](http://nerdist.com/article/star-wars-ben-solo-blue-butterflies/)  
> [Alderaan](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Alderaan)


	4. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are—the final part that's just a massive emotional train wreck! 
> 
> Some incorporation on Hux’s canon background is included. I have a soft spot for him (and maybe…Domhnall Gleeson) and I think his character could have been put to better use in the movies. The dynamic duo of Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux to rule the galaxy!
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** There’s quite a bit of smut here (some of it physically rough), brief conversations about someone’s ‘first time', possessive jealousy, some minor interrogation brutality and drugging to submission. Mind the tags where it states **[limited redemption and HEA]**
> 
> Enjoy! ❤️

Ben’s vision was blood red when he saw the carnage scattered throughout the trainee quarters.

They had close to a hundred new recruits there, and less than half survived, most being just between the ages of fifteen to seventeen. Majority were unarmed, and the manner of the wreckage and debris tells him that grenades were responsible, so it would have been a quick death—

But _yet,_ the crimson in his sight does not fade. He wonders _why_ he’s this way. Why his hands can thoughtlessly slay others while the tiny remains of morality within him rips out its talons in other circumstances. His eyes flick down to his swollen knuckles, still shaking from the earlier showdown with the Resistance.

No. He shouldn’t be picking and choosing when he’d like to be the good guy.

 _Tsk,_ he clicks his tongue in frustration as he grapples with the painful truth that he’s always been torn apart; between who he was before and who he is now.

Sometimes—not very often as he should, but it _does_ happen—he thinks of his ethereal mother, Leia Organa. In the nascent stages after his defection from the Resistance to serve the First Order, as he lay under the cold sheets of his new quarters, his mind will reel from rage of his father’s demise before he descends into glints of shame from choosing to abandon his mother in pursuit of revenge.

Is she alive?

Does she still think of him? Did she _ever_?

Did she remarry and have another, more _worthy_ child to dote on?

He did try to be a good son, remaining by her bedside night after night so she wouldn’t be alone. Listening to her wail from a broken heart until she was hoarse. He imagines a fantasy where she’d still think of him fondly. Where the days he’d curl up against her while reading every book she owns never ended. That she wouldn’t look at him with cold, blank eyes when he told her that his father—her _husband_ , was betrayed by the very people he’s been raised to serve. And when he wanted to make them _pay_ for what they did, her expression didn’t shift from horror to revulsion of her son’s newfound cruelty—

But he made his choice. The poison already lives within his veins. There is no room for regrets.

Now now. Not _ever_.

A shrill beep in his quarter’s notification system informs him that Captain Armitage Hux is about to enter.

Ben strips off his shirt and sits down heavily on his training bench, picking up a roll of bandage dipped in healing balm to begin wrapping it around the bleeding gashes he sustained during the attack. His lacerations trail everywhere from his shoulders down to his lower back. _Fucking Dameron_ , he thinks. That bastard almost cracked one of his ribs.The medical officers that visited him earlier already placed fresh dressings over the viler wounds. The procedure of treating the spots where bullets have clipped his body is always a nasty business—requiring an amount of numbing and sterilising agents that _should_ have knocked him out—

But he’s inhumanely barbaric after all. A festering, monstrous beast of a being.

He doesn’t say a word, even as his cohort stands in front of him for what seems like minutes.

‘Shouldn’t you be at the medbay for those?’ Hux finally speaks.

‘This is hardly worth taking up a bed. Have you moved out all the remaining cadets?’

‘Yes, we’ve evacuated the grounds and buried the dead. Mitaka will take some boys out to scout a new site shortly. Preferably one nearer to the command centre.’

Ben nods as he tightens the bandages meticulously, his teeth tearing off the ends. He utilises various clips to fasten everything in place before massaging more balm into the bruises on his jaw and cheekbones. He finally looks up as he stretches himself, his muscles rippling across his back. ‘ _Well_?’ he scowls after noticing Hux hasn’t moved. ‘If there’s nothing else, can you get the hell out?’

Surprisingly, instead of an expected sneer, Hux’s expression is somewhat troubled. ‘I remember—must be almost a decade now—when they first brought you in and told us you were handpicked by our Supreme Leader, I was bloody livid. Thinking here’s _another_ asshole who believes he’s better than everyone. You were a fucking menace—well, you’re _still_ a fucking menace, but _back then,_ you were always skulking off alone in some bloody corner, refusing to associate with the team and scaring the shit out of everyone with your aggression.'

Ben instantly shoots a threatening stare at his subordinate—

But Hux doesn’t back down. ‘And when you launched that successful assassination on the Resistance’s high-command after you turned twenty, well, _shit_ —you became a bloody superstar overnight. Everyone knew your name. Everyone wanted a piece of you, even though we _knew_ that you’re the son of some hotshot in the Resistance who got himself blown up.’

‘ _Don’t_ fucking test my patience!’

‘But that’s some story, isn’t it? That someone who was destined for greatness with the enemy, is now fighting for _us_ instead. And whenever I looked at you, I was fucking angry all the time, but _mostly_ at myself. I’m the illegitimate son of the former Captain Brendol Hux. A well-known deserter who sold intel about the First Order to the Resistance.' Hux's tone shifts to something bitter. 'And the traitorous asshole fucked my helpless kitchen woman mother while he was at it too.’

 _What’s this annoying fuck trying to say?_ Ben’s forehead furrows.

Hux and him had _somewhat_ grown as men together. Once they became more accustomed with one another, it wasn’t long before they were exchanging piss drunk stories about life and their plans to bring order to Snoke’s domain. Hux may be a fool at times, relying _far_ too much on theoretical simulations, but he has an adequate intellect than most and sharp negotiation skills. His proclivity for technological advancement and innovation led to a boost of productivity in many of their sectors.

‘When I tried to rise through the ranks and others pissed on my bastard heritage and treasonous father, _you_ stood up for me. _You_ vouched for my skills, despite my lacking as a physical warrior. After Canady—bless that old fool—was killed and you were elected to succeed him, _you_ chose _me!_ ’ And Hux jabs a finger to his chest in disbelief. ‘You chose me to be your number two when there were _far_ more experienced candidates in the field.’

‘Cut to the chase,’ Ben snaps. 'You’re saying I’ve made a mistake?’

Hux nostrils flare, his hands running through his perfectly coiffed hair. ‘You've become like a brother to me, and as much as it pains me to say this, but I’d die for you. I’d follow you till the end to ensure Snoke’s supremacy. There’s little doubt that the troops who you’ve trained and taken under your wing _also_ share the sentiments.’

Ben remains still, his mind in utter pandemonium from the unexpected display of loyalty.

‘ _Armitage—_ ’ Ben’s jaw clenches. ‘ _What_ is it you’re you asking here?’

This throws Hux off-balance. Ben hadn’t addressed him by his first name since he ascended to become Commander Kylo Ren five years ago. ‘There’s no pleasant way of saying this, but you _need_ to get a fucking hold of yourself. You could've _died_ out there today because of your bloody antics!’

‘I was handling it.’

‘You were grossly outnumbered. The Ren I know would’ve never put himself in that situation without considering the odds, so why the hell didn’t you wait for backup?’

‘That motherfucking piece of shit needs to be dealt with. He’s becoming more than just a nuisance. The Resistance’s high-command is getting out of control if they’re now targeting the vulnerable. Even _we_ —as despicable as they’d like to see us— _still_ have regard for defenceless children who have yet to take part in this fucking war.’

Hux waves his hands. ‘And I'll personally see to it that Dameron _will be_ managed, but not at the expense of single-handedly going after him when he’s surrounded by almost thirty enforcers.’

‘Are you here just to badger me?’

‘A decision needs to be made about this girl or— _Ren_ —where are you going?’ and Hux grits his teeth. ‘ _Do. Not. Run. Away. From. This_.’

Ben’s already standing up when he brusquely raises a finger at Hux, silencing him on the spot. He grimaces in pain as he pulls his shirt back on, unquestionably _not_ in the state to confront this. Not even from Hux, and _especially_ not from Snoke. He dreads to think what his mentor would say if he hears of what occurred, because among the many attributes that Snoke loathes, having no sense of self-control is one of them—

But he can no longer hide it. He's getting out of control for her.

Rey _belongs_ to him, and it wasn’t just a physical fixation anymore. An unexpected protectiveness has begun to mount, knowing the very same deceptions he grew up fighting against are haunting her too. Where once he was a cold reptile, now he's mutating into a red-blooded creature. The deadly possessiveness has only grown like an infection the longer they're apart, his rage already rising from Hux’s mere mention of her. Never in his life has he wanted anything more than this, and he’ll never surrender until he has her.

Even if it meant annihilating the entire fucking Resistance to the ground.

‘Raise the security across the zones effective immediately. Double all available manpower into the patrols. I want a twenty-four-hour surveillance running throughout the sectors. _Every_ single individual who’s within or moving around our boundaries is to be scanned. No exceptions.’

Hux mouth falls open in frustration. ‘Commander, I’m _sure_ you’re fully aware the impact this will have on administrative workflow—’

‘And this means _absolutely_ _everyone—'_ Ben continues, as if Hux hadn't spoken. 'Everything from routine delivery transports to the general public. I’ve marked her identifier number to generate an alert in the system.’ His eyes darken, teeth slightly bared. ‘ _If_ she’s found—even if she’s located with other Resistance troops, she’s to be brought directly to me. _Untouched_. I don’t give a fuck what happens to the rest.’

‘How long is this going to drag on for?’

‘For as long as I need, but I anticipate no longer than a week.’

‘How assured are you that she’ll be found within—’

‘She knows my expectations. She _will_ come to me.’

‘And if she still fails to emerge?’

Ben’s bottom lip twitches. ‘I will allow seven regular days, and if on the eight I’m still kept waiting, I’ll take the fifth battalion with me.’

‘The—the what?’ Hux sputters—

But it's clear enough the first time. The First Order’s fifth battalion is Snoke’s elite personal force. A lethal group of eight that have been exceedingly trained by Ben to protect their Supreme Leader from _any_ threat, and besides Snoke himself, only the Commander of the First Order is allowed to utilise them for rare critical operations.

‘But you can’t just—I mean, won’t he—’

‘He’s never questioned my requests for them.’ 

‘This is _reckless_ and suicidal, Ren. Even with the fifth legion, it won’t be easy to infiltrate as the compound will be exceedingly—’

‘ _What_?’ Ben laughs obnoxiously. ‘No challenge? _Hardly_ seems fair for them. Wouldn’t want to make things _too_ easy for me now, would we?’

‘How the hell are you going to trace her in—’

‘I’ll know how to find her.’

Hux looks incredulous. ‘How?’

‘I have my ways.’

‘I don’t expect the Resistance—especially Dameron, will give up one of their own so easily. Even for a ceasefire.’

‘Does it look like I give a _fuck_ about what they’d do?’

‘ _Fine—_ but I demand we standby with reinforcements at the closest perimeter, so we can extract you out if everything gets shot to hell.’

‘Do whatever you see fit.’

Hux exhales in defeat. ‘All this bloody trouble for her to be presented before the Supreme Leader, yes?’

Ben nods curtly and says nothing further.

* * *

Rey wrinkles her nose as she carries out her first routine spot checking of her squad’s equipment. Torra, Freya (although in a wheelchair) and the newly assigned Kazuda from Poe’s team are all present before her, their firearms and protective gear arranged across the inspection table. As she was once an officer herself, she’s well aware this is one of the shittiest procedures for both the evaluator and the evaluatees—

But she acknowledges the key purpose is really to enforce maintenance discipline among the troops.

‘Well done, team!' she grins at them. ‘Kazuda, try _not_ to damage your shoulder holster again.’

Kazuda rubs his neck sheepishly. 'Yes, ma’am.’

‘Stop being such a klutz, Kaz!’ Torra snaps as she pushes Freya’s wheelchair. ‘You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed one day.’

Rey holds back a small smile as she crosses her arms, observing the light-hearted banter of her small squad. As two more officers still needed to be transferred to her platoon to meet the requisite five, they’ve yet to be deployed for any new assignments, giving them a good stretch to allow Freya some recovery time. 

Suddenly, the PA system in the building turns on. **‘Sergeant Rey Ridley to report to the control room immediately— _repeat_ —Sergeant Ridley to the control room.’ **

She dismisses her squad, but as she heads down the hallway, there's a sinking feeling inside her. It couldn’t be Luke, because he’d never request her presence in this manner. On most occasions, if a higher-up wanted to see you, they’d send someone to inform you, but if you’re requested to report in through the speakers—

Well, that usually means you’re screwed.

She’s not surprised at all when she sees Poe, sitting at the far end of the large conference table. It’s just slightly over a week since he returned from a successful campaign in taking out the First Order’s new training centre. Despite the high-command choosing to highlight this as a victory to weaken enemy lines, Rey knew it was pure reprisal for the loss of the resource outpost, and they ensured Poe hit them hard where it hurts the most. A dirty tactic, but she supposes there are no defined rules in war. 

‘Take a seat,’ Poe’s voice sounds more rigid than usual.

Rey's always seen Poe as the poster boy of the Resistance, having classic good-looks with fantastic wavy hair and a dashing smile that’s popular among the ladies. He came from a family with a long line of military history, excellent at inspiring others to fight for the cause and a dedicated soldier who never questions his leaders. He also has an easy-going personality if you knew him on a personal level—as Finn would constantly tell her—though Rey never wants to. Despite her constant quarrelsome relationship with Poe, she never _genuinely_ despised him. She understood in her own way why they share an underlying hostility, knowing he's always been rather envious of her relationship with Luke. And although Luke's never been a difficult commanding officer, _no one_ likes favouritism.

Poe launches almost immediately. ‘I must apologise for taking so long in commending you in person after Wexley’s rescue mission.’ His gaze cuts into her like daggers. 'But surely you understand that I had left on an assignment by the time you…’ and he trails off icily.

‘Not a problem, Captain.’

‘I’ve spoken to Commander Skywalker and Commander Sato about what your squad achieved, so rest assured, your team’s service will be rewarded where they see fit.’

‘Appreciate that.’

‘Captain Wexley is expected to make full recovery. All thanks to _your_ resourcefulness to ensure the extraction didn't fail.’

‘Just doing my duty.’

Poe clasp a hand over his mouth, continuing to glower at her. Rey calmly returns his look. She knows he’ll confront her anyway, irrespective of whatever she says, but her eyes widen when he whips out his datapad to connect a tiny surveillance and tracking device, typically attached to specialised scouting units that are responsible for scoping undiscovered zones and hunting new energy reserves—

And when he starts playing a recording, _nothing_ could prepare Rey for what she sees on the display.

The video is choppy at best, but she can make out Poe and the team detonating explosives around a First Order training centre. The footage is shaky, cutting in and out between numerous gunfire exchanges before everything falls still for a passing moment, but the situation soon turns into a treacherous ordeal as the enforcers start to flee, viciously getting picked off one by one. Her skin crawls as Poe punches up the volume—

—and she hears a thunderous snarl from the man who has stolen her mind, body and soul.

She’s frozen in her seat, silently watching the unfolding of events. He’s taken some substantial damage to himself, but he’s still horrifyingly achieved in wiping out more than half of Poe’s team on his own. Her heartbeats quicken when he drops to his knees, the remaining twelve Resistance troops all poised with their weapons directed at him. Despite Poe’s incessant provocation in the background, the man she now identifies as Ben Solo doesn’t utter a word. Neither does his expression change throughout the goading—

Until the topic steers to _her_. 

**‘How dare you hold her hostage?’** Poe’s voice blares from the video. **‘Who the fuck do you think you are? Huh? That you can terrorise her, or _any_ of my troops?’**

Despite the grainy quality of the recording, she's able to see Poe slamming his fist across Ben’s cheek before taking the blunt end of his rifle to ram against his chest. A tiny gasp escapes her lips before she can control herself, earning a frosty look from Poe who’s dissecting her every reaction from across the table. She watches Poe strike Ben's face again.

**'You stay away from her! You hear me, asshole?’**

Normally, these methods seldom trouble her. Poe’s known to be one of the roughest interrogators in the Resistance. Tough, precise and intimidating when he needs to be. While he’s always ensured he never crosses the line by beating them to a pulp, his manhandling of Ben is making her nauseous and outraged.

 **‘When we bring you in, you’re gonna rot in a windowless cell,’** Poe scornfully jests. **‘And we’ll make sure she’ll never have to see you again, you sick son of a bi—’**

The footage suddenly spirals out of control, the enforcers surrounding Ben start to back off. Poe's already stumbled behind as First Order reinforcements shoot their way through, and Rey catches a brief glimpse of the red-head Captain Hux storming up to Ben. While the barrage of gunshots launch once more, something tears through the atmosphere amidst the violent outbreak—

Ben’s unmistakable roars of terrifying rage, **' _You’ll not take her from me! I'_ _ll slaughter every single one of you fuckers if you touch her!’_**

Rey’s pulse instantly reacts to his primal howl like a mating call, digging her fingers into her knees, but when Poe shuts off the recording, she's unable to move a single inch, her mind wiped blank of all coherent thoughts. She can’t meet her captain’s eyes instantly, but when she finally does, she’s never felt smaller before him.

He wastes no time demanding answers. ‘Explain it. _All_ of it.’

She can’t, so she sits in silence to painfully drag out her insolence.

‘I considered you might've been in danger. Maybe you were personally being targeted by him as retaliation for that last assignment.’ He raises his voice, ‘But did you really have the _fucking_ nerve to lie right to my face when I asked you for a full debrief?’ When she still doesn’t say a word, he’s almost yelling. ‘Are you a traitor? _Are you a fucking spy for them now_?’

‘No...’ Her voice barely sounds like her own. She forces herself to hold back a disrespectful sigh from the same, repeated questionings she ran through with Jessika and Luke, but she supposes she deserves this and should expect nothing less.

‘What’s with that pile of the crap in the recording? Why the _fuck_ is he saying that about you? What about that fucking shitshow in the mineshaft during the extraction?’ His voice turns resentfully sour, ‘ _Please_ don’t make me sick. Tell me I’m stupid for even thinking of it.' And he's glaring at the diminishing bite mark on her neck.

When Rey’s gaze wavers, her eyes shifting to the table, Poe starts shouting out every disgraceful allegation she could ever dream of.

‘—Are you _fucking_ him? Is that what this is about?’

‘—Do you have _any_ idea who he is? What that asshole’s done?’

‘—Have you lost your _fucking_ mind? What the _fuck’s_ the matter with you?’

‘—Is this some kind of adrenaline producing affair with a violent psychopath who goes against everything we’re trying to build? _Everything_ we’re looking to protect?’

‘—You know he’s notorious for fucking with people’s heads, right?’

Perhaps the former Rey would have shattered into fragments from the severe humiliation of this situation, but she's not the same, oblivious girl anymore. She meets Poe’s eyes with a certain kind of composure that unnerves even him.

‘I thought you were different,’ Poe suddenly mutters, his tone evolving to something unfamiliar. ‘It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you go to him on your own. Looking the way you do—he wouldn’t have any control either. It was my mistake to expose you to him.’

He almost sounded…devastated?

_What?_

**‘Captain Dameron—’** a voice breaks through the tension from the speaker on the table. **‘We have an _urgent_ situation.’**

‘What is it, Sergeant Connix?’

**‘We’ve got three patrol teams failing to report in across the inner zone borders. We lost contact with them in the last twenty minutes. Should we send a response team to check it out?’**

Poe immediately stares at Rey. ‘What the hell have _you_ done now?’

‘What the—what’s that supposed to mean? I’ve been sitting here with you!’ she fires back angrily. 

Poe ignores her, responding to the device coolly, ‘Deploy the troops in ten minutes.’ He raises a finger at Rey. ‘You’re not going anywhere till we sort your shit out. Until high-command reaches an agreement for the appropriate punishment.’

 **‘Captain—’** Kaydel’s anxious tone is heard once more. **‘We’ve just run through the database from one of the impacted borders. They were in the midst of scanning an individual when the communication was cut. Surveillance mainframe confirms that someone's crossed into our precinct. It’s the First Order’s Kylo Ren.’**

Rey's mouth immediately turns dry.

‘Copy that. How many hostiles are we expecting?’

**‘Appears to be minor clashes across those MIA divisions, but so far, only Kylo Ren has broken in, but we’re not able to ascertain what or where he’s targeting.’**

Something eerie flickers across Poe’s features. ‘Oh—I think I’ve a _pretty_ good idea about that. Assemble the squad at the front. Today’s the day we’re going to nail down this sick fuck. And send two guys from security up to the control room now.’ He pauses, his eyes flashing at Rey in anger. 'You’re relieved of any duties for the time being, Sergeant Ridley, until I return and a decision is made by the leadership.’

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!’ Rey cries. ‘You _can’t_ prove anything!’

‘I won’t need to,’ Poe’s voice slices into her like a winter’s frost. ‘His disgusting obsession with you is the only evidence we’ll need.’

And when security arrives a few minutes later, Poe gestures his head to Rey. ‘Lock her up.’

***

It’s actually more crushing than she anticipated. 

She’s being detained in one of the basic holding rooms that has only two chairs and a cold metal table, normally used for routine questioning by patrol squads. She stares blankly at the wall, uneasily shaking a leg. She checks her watch. It’s been two hours since they threw her in here. She can only hope that none who matter will see her in here.

Like her squad.

Or maybe Jessika.

Or perhaps even Luke.

After everything the Resistance has done to her and Ben—after everything she’s done for them, if they were going to dial her down into some juvenile collaborator to the First Order, she’s not going to stick around and take it with a smile. _Fuck_ this shit. As Luke so kindly reminded her, he wasn’t going to be around forever to soften the cracks. It’s her own pride that made her believe she could go back to pretending nothing's changed. To go on being the same person she was before the hidden bodies were uncovered.

She’s finished with this. _All_ of it.

Poe took her on a bad day, because she's wearing her hair down with pins—incredibly useful little things to pick elementary locks used in rooms like these. As she pushes against the door quietly, she waits for the guards to be distracted in conversation before she stealthily removes a nearby access vent cover and slips inside. That's the good thing about being naturally tiny and audacious, because as a cadet, if she ever woke from a rare nightmare of her parents again, she’d spend the night exploring the headquarters by moving through these ventilation shafts.

Just like a perfect, mental blueprint. 

She crawls through till she reaches the living quarters, easing down from the top and scrambles across to her room. Her fingers tremble as she punches in her access code.

She wastes no time in tearing her room apart, wrenching essentials from their place and shoving them into her bulky utility pack. She grabs two handguns and every available reload magazine she had left. She’s always lived a simplistic life. Most of her clothing are basic with her enforcer gears and uniform taking up most of the space. She never hoards or own much personal effects, but there are five worldly possessions that she’ll never leave behind.

Four sentimental photographs—

One with Jessika standing in front of the orphanage when she was seven.

One with Luke on a platform during her cadet graduation when she was eighteen.

One with Finn in the mess hall taken shortly after they were assigned as partners when she was nineteen.

One with her squadron that had all five of the Ace Squad members within, as Torra had sassily manipulated the photo to include Bo, Griff, Fazon and the newest Kazuda inside.

And lastly, Ben’s datastick that holds the fundamentals of her very existence.

She opens up her personal datapad and sends a message to Jessika’s inbox, telling her that she’s got to figure some shit out, to not try and look for her and they’ll be in contact again once it’s safe. She considers sending one to Luke as well, but finally decides against it. He’s always been accepting of her. He’d eventually understand why she left.

She yanks at the zips hastily and slings the pack over her shoulder, her mind has already plotting to escape through a little-known exit by the mess hall that her seniors once showed her. From there, she’d be able to access the sanitation network that runs underneath the zones. But before she leaves, she just has _one_ more thing to do. 

She creeps out and makes her way to the critical unit of the medbay. She hovers over her former partner’s bed as her eyes sweep over the many wires and sensors that dig into his skin, the steady tones of his heartbeat bleeping from the monitor beside him. ‘We’ll see each other again,’ she whispers to Finn. ‘I believe that.’ And she plants a gentle kiss to his cold forehead. ‘Thank you, my friend.’

As she walks back down the hallways, there's something grating at the back of her mind. Something odd was happening here. For Ben to infringe so openly into their headquarters’ strongly fortified zone seems a tad bit reckless— even for someone as volatile and arrogant as him. Why didn’t they breach through the sewage systems like they always do? Or is he just trying to cause a senseless ruckus in retaliation for attacking the First Order's training grounds? Why hasn’t Poe returned yet? Is he dead?

Suddenly, the piercing sirens blast out from the announcement system. **‘ _Warning—intruder alert—all available personnel to route to the control centre to secure the high-command immediately—this is not a drill—Warning—intruder alert—’_**

She tenses as hordes of enforcers begin to rush through the corridors. In a bizarre turn of events, the disorder permits her to move through the chaos unnoticed. She doesn’t stop to grasp what this alarm could mean, her feet rapidly moving across the ground as she pushes through throngs of other panicky troops. As she turns into the darkened passageway that leads to the mess hall, the hair on her neck unexpectedly stands, and she snaps her head around—

Nothing.

The hallways on this section of the complex are usually empty, but she could have _sworn_ she saw a figure just behind her. And with warning systems initiating the emergency spotlights to flicker, it only fuels her paranoia further. The mess hall is completely deserted by now, and she pushes past the heavy swing doors to sprint across, but as she turns the corner that leads to the exit, she skids to a forceful stop.

In all his overwhelming height and terror, Ben Solo’s entire frame obstructs the way. While he’s still completely in black, he’s dressed slightly more flamboyant than usual with a heavy, double breasted coat. Her heart immediately skyrockets to her throat, and she stumbles back so sharply that she falls flat onto her rear. Normally she’d reach for her weapon automatically, but her body is paralysed from the sight of him.

His gaze is darker than ever. ‘Going somewhere?’

‘How did—how do you—’

Ben moves forward slowly, like a hunter to an animal about to flee. ‘Cunts like Dameron are the easiest to manipulate. He’s even more impulsive than I am. All I needed was to create a believable diversion to draw him out.’ He smirks as he stands before her. ‘You _really_ think your guys would ever get to scan me unless I allowed them to? I _wanted_ him to know I was coming.’

 _Cunning as always_ , she thinks. And Poe, being the headstrong ass, went straight for the carrot that Ben dangled.

He crouches down to lift her chin. ‘Were you making your way to me?’ When she doesn’t answer, his eyes drop to the pack around her shoulders, his fingers tightening around her jaw. ‘Or did I arrive just in time?’

She winces when he snags an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her body habitually arches towards him as his lips trail from her forehead down to her cheeks. It’s like she’s been wandering in a blizzard for so long and his touch is akin to coming home to a warm fireplace. ‘This place, how could you have known—’

‘Who do you think found it? Who was it who told the rest—to be passed down to the next batch of enforcers year after year?’ He leans in— _so_ precariously close. ‘Oh, how I’ve missed you, Rey. You've no fucking idea.’

And when they meet into a calamitous kiss, she thinks she might have some indication, but her eyes fly open in fear when there’s a sharp jab at her hip. Her screams are subdued between their fiery mouths as he continues to devour her, the scorching neutraliser shooting through her bloodstream. He moves a hand to support her head as she starts to lose consciousness.

His lips on hers is the last thing she remembers before her mind snaps black.

***

The dosage must have been substantial, because Rey couldn’t tell how long she’s been out when she finally comes to her senses. Her eyelids are brittle and her body feels weary. She stretches herself across the silk bedsheets, realising she’s definitely _not_ in the Resistance headquarters anymore given the extravagance of the bedding. Her eyes attempt to adjust in a room that's pitch black—save for the small opening from the screens where moonlight creeps through—but she already knows where she probably is. 

She can _smell_ his scent off the shirt that's draped on her.

She flinches as she slowly sits up, feeling the bruise where he had injected her, but her face glows awkwardly when she realises she’s only in her underwear and the loose top. Where the hell was her bra? Or the rest of her clothing for that matter. She makes out a tall, metal pitcher and glass by the bedside table. She frantically swipes at it, tumbling the cups off the surface, and tipping it directly into her mouth, taking large gulps till it spills down her neck. She empties it within seconds before dropping the pitcher to the floor as well. 

Rey's so disoriented that she doesn’t notice that just beside her, an enormous shadow is stirring awake.

A large palm circles around her waist, dragging her backwards to press alongside an expansive, warm chest. She whimpers as Ben’s arms cage around her entire frame, arranging her body against him to his liking. She’s facing him now, realising that his top-half is bare as her fingers rest atop his defined pectorals.

His voice is thick with sleep. 'Such a noisy little troublemaker...'

‘Where am I?’

‘My quarters.’

‘How long was I—’

‘Almost forty-eight hours.’

She’s been gone for two days!

‘I tried to feed you, but you refused to move,’ he yawns. ‘Think you wanted to choke me when I offered you a drink.’

Her mind’s still hazy, but she slowly recalls the events before she passed out. ‘What happened to everyone else? The—I mean, you were standing right _inside_ the...or what about those checkpoints you caused a scene at?’

‘I know my way around. The commotion was really just a commotion.’

Everything she picks up about his familiarity with the Resistance and their methods all makes perfect sense to her now, noting he was once a part of them for the first eighteen years of his life.

‘And Poe?’

He snorts. ‘I had other priorities. I’ll deal with him another day.’ 

‘Did—did you drug _and_ strip me?’

He chuckles wryly. ‘I've always been a spiteful man. And that’s _hardly_ called stripping if I’m just making you comfortable.’

She feels her cheeks heating up, resorting into giving a grumpy sulk in response.

‘Did you have a good rest?’ his voice soothes her. ‘What did you dream about?’

‘Not of you...’ she mumbles.

‘That can easily be dealt with.’

He tilts his neck downwards to nuzzle his nose against her. Her pupils have started adapting to the surroundings, so she can see he's looking into her eyes. Something painful aches within her chest as she studies him. Her memory reaches for him now, the features of the boy from the garden beginning to blend together seamlessly with the man before her. She wants him to hold her in his arms, tell her everything will be alright and his lips will take away all the pain they have within them. She wants him so badly it's almost pain. Her emotions are a complete fucking mess, just like everything about him is.

And he’s become somewhat…strangely _beautiful_ , if she’s being honest. A cold, virile conqueror.

 _It's you_ , she thinks. _It's really you._

‘Let me tell you about _my_ dreams,’ his tone is wicked. ‘I’ll never forget how you left me behind that night.’ His fingers move down to stir her core awake. ‘This is how it should've been. You and me. Waking up together and letting me fuck you again.’ And he yanks down her underwear as he whispers, ‘More than once. Anywhere I want. All day long.'

Immediately, her centre thumps. He knows exactly how to get her body to submit, and when his fingers slide in, they move along her folds like they’ve always been a part of her. He rolls her onto her back as he hovers above, watching every tiny gasp that escapes from her. She traces his muscles, marvelling in his strength and how surrounded he makes her feel. A rich rumble echoes from his chest, so she supposes he likes the way her fingertips trail on his skin.

He uses his other hand to circle around the fading contusion on her neck. ‘I’ll give you another one. I like seeing my mark on you. Shows them that you’re _mine_.’ And he kisses her temple. ‘Did you miss me, Rey?’

She nods weakly. There’s no value in fighting him anymore. Not in _this_.

‘Say it.’

‘I missed you.’

‘How much?’

Like a tiny hidden secret, it comes out before she can stop herself. ‘Ever since you went away.’

His eyebrows furrow instantly, his neck recoiling in confusion by her words. But when she swiftly pulls him into a kiss, his fingers become rougher, a hand grabbing her breast through the shirt and she feels his growing hardness. He doesn’t let the kiss break, biting on her bottom lip and she shivers below him. Her eyes screw shut from the waves of pleasure he's drawing out, her slick seeping onto the sheets beneath them. After kicking off his pants, he tugs them both up, aligning her to sit astride him, till his length rubs against her entrance. He pulls her shirt off and buries his face between the hollow of her breasts, inhaling deeply as his stubble rubs across her skin.

‘ _Mine—_ ’ he breathes, his teeth grazing her nipples.

She's thankful for the darkened quarters to hide their nakedness, for despite them having sex more than once, she’s never felt more flustered by him.

He gazes at her, his eyes vehement as always with a palm grasping her hips while the other clutches her chin covetously. ‘You wanna be on top, hmm?' 

Her face heats up, and she nods coyly, ashamed by how easily he excites her. 

'Good girl. Go ahead, show me how you'll ride me.'

His throaty tenor is incredibly intoxicating to her senses, and she’s so far gone that it barely hurts when he sinks her down onto him. Both of them groan—ever so vocally together, and her head lolls back from the pleasure, her walls sheathing around his length, yielding to his aggressive invasion of her body. He gives her time to get used to his size again as her centre clenches onto him.

‘You’re still so _fucking_ tight—’ he growls, his teeth slightly bared.

When the curve of her rear comfortably meets his thighs and their bodies start to move together in this new angle, it’s an absolution. Leaning against the headboard, his mouth is agape as he stares up at her while his fingers press into her flesh. Her skin flushes as she hears their damp, sticky skin slapping together. His stares seem to becoming more fervent when he notices her blush through the dimly lit room.

He's becoming breathless, rolling his hips and helping her grind against him. ‘You wanna come like this?’

She only manages another nod, but he doesn’t give in, reaching up to squeeze her breast hard. ‘You’ll have to beg me, sweetheart. I _want_ to hear it.’

Despite his domineering nature, there’s something inexplicable about the way he says these sweet nothings that makes her blood soar. She's losing grip of reality when he pulls her nipples into his mouth, his tongue twisting and licking until she's squirming.

‘ _Please—_ ’

‘Please what?’

‘P-please, I want to come this way—’ Her words shake. ‘On top of you.’

‘You like the way I make you feel?’ and he gives taunting, shallow thrusts. ‘That only I can make you feel like this? Or hear those pretty cries you sing when you’re being fucked?’

 _Yes, yes, yes_ to all of it—

And he grabs her waist, shoving himself up into her. His restrain snaps when she screams, high-pitched and feral. No longer measured and steady, he loses all control as he fucks her onto him with total abandon while she braces herself against his shoulders. When he lifts her, he slams her back down so that he bottoms out each time. He’s brutal this way, savagely bruising his grip into her skin and she cries out as her head spins from his intensity.

He makes her give in to her darkest, baser desires. He makes her feel _alive_.

‘Yeah, you like that?’ he snarls, his lust fiercer than ever, roughly ramming into her that she's almost blacking out again.

‘Yes. _Faster_.’

‘Any harder and you won’t walk straight.’

‘I don’t care. Do it.’

‘ _Shit—_ you’re driving me fucking crazy!’

That seems to break them both, and after their penultimate thrusts, his hands shift up to her back, crushing her tiny body against him as he turns them so she's on her back again. He groans, giving the final, haphazard pumps between her legs as her climax wrecks her. She hears him give out a strangled choke, his cheeks pressing alongside hers as he starts to convulse.

She can’t breathe either, almost sobbing as she trembles through their release. 

***

They stay quiet for a long time, and even he, who is usually the first to start moving—the first to say something, remains uncharacteristically quiescent. She feels him soften, but he still doesn’t pull himself out, and it’s not until the sweat on their skin finally begins to cool that his arms finally slacken around her. He turns his neck, planting a stiff kiss to her cheek and gets off the bed. His mouth is usually warm, but it feels oddly detached this time.

 _Unusual_ , she thinks. He usually gives his attentions to her lips or forehead.

He disappears from view for a moment. When he comes back, he’s pulling on a fresh pair of pants and a fitting shirt. Her breath catches as her gaze rakes over his back to see raw wounds and bruises scattered across. Now that their passion has been temporarily satiated, she notices the injuries along his arms as well, wondering if he was in pain while they tangled up in each other—

But it’s a punishing bucket of ice thrown over her. A bitter reminder that despite this little space they try to carve out to be together, they can’t escape from reality.

He follows her stare as he tugs at the hem of his attire. ‘Courtesy of those you call friends.’ 

‘I’m sure you fought back as well, killing those who probably lasted only seconds once you set your sights on them.’

‘You saying I like to target the weak?’

‘I’m saying most can only withstand a quarter of your injuries. You’re the one who is feared.’ And her voice softens, ‘Do they still hurt?’

He doesn’t answer.

When he clothes her in another one of his shirts, she looks at him quizzically. ‘I have my own.’

‘I know, but I like seeing you wear mine.’ And his tone turns steely, ‘You know, there are _worse_ things than physical pain.’ He sits back down on the bed facing her, his legs hanging off the side. There’s a growing distance in his actions, and when he reaches to curl his fingers at her nape, he breaks into a piercing glare. ‘Were you _leaving_ me?’

Her skin instantly prickles from his temper, but she doesn’t have a reply that can remedy it. She only stares back at him soundlessly, watching him descend into pure rage that's both magnificent and terrifying at the same time.

‘Answer the _damn_ question, Rey. You know how I feel about you. I told you what I wanted.’ When her body retreats, he snatches her waist to drag her back. ‘I saw what’s in that bag of yours. Were you just gonna disappear without saying anything?’

‘There was no plan,’ she finds her voice. ‘I just wanted to get out. Poe detained me on suspicion of abetting the First Order after he heard what you said about me.’

He considers this for a brief moment. ‘If I didn’t come to get you, would you have returned to me?’

‘I—I don’t know,’ she admits.

She can see he’s fuming, his hold on her getting tighter. ‘I'll _never_ let you go. You’re gonna stay by my side until this fucking conflict obliterates the both of us. You know that, right?’ It’s almost a threat, and her silence only seems to infuriate him further. ‘Tell me you _understand_ what I’m saying!’

His immature tantrums should irritate her. His reaction like a scorned lover should offend her, but as she meets his eyes for a little longer, she finally sees a glimpse of the lonely boy she once knew, buried deep within the icy gaze. There’s always been an unknown pain, a desperate plea behind his anger. She saw that within him before, and she still sees it now. ‘Yes, Ben,’ she whispers. ‘I understand.’

It’s like a glass shatters in the room when he hears his former identity. He immediately freezes, his entire body goes rigid, exhaling sharply as his eyes comb her face for answers.

‘ _What_ did you call me?’

‘You heard me.’

He frowns with a sullen expression. ‘ _So_ —they’ve told you the truth of who I am?’

‘Yes.’

‘Everything?’

‘Everything.’

‘Then you _know_ what they did to my family. To my father.’

‘I do.’

‘Who told you this?’

‘The same person who sheltered me. Who wanted me to have a different life, instead of burdening an ignorant little girl with reality.’ And Rey feels a heaviness lift inside her with those words, for she no longer desires to carry that any longer. She’s the girl who survived countless of trials as an orphan and the duties of war. She’ll continue to survive everything else, including deceptions such as Luke’s, because she knows there are far worse things than that. One day, she’ll learn to forgive everything he’s done to protect her. 

Ben’s eyes narrow. ‘Who is it?’

‘Luke Skywalker.’

‘My uncle?’ Ben is stunned for a moment. ‘All this while, he’s been taking care of you?’ Soon, he scowls in disgust. ‘He's the one behind _this_? That fucking imbecile stood by and did _nothing_ when they wanted to arrest me. Didn’t say a word during those tasteless speeches for my father's funeral. He looked the other way when my mother cried herself to sleep every fucking night. I can only envy that he's done _so much_ more for you at least. It’s always a fantastic idea to fabricate someone’s life. Just so that you won’t hesitate to fight on their side. Sends the right message, don't you think?’

Rey feels a splintering sensation in her chest. There’s still so much resentment in him, and it's only gotten worse over the years. While there's never been much hope to begin with, she knew she had to try. She has to know, just as he will.

‘ _How_ poetic—’ he muses sarcastically. ‘To see where our loyalties ended up. You’re a First Order child, yet you were raised by the opposition. I grew up with the Resistance, yet I have defected to serve where you once came from.’ He pulls her against his chest. ‘You’re _never_ going back to them, Rey. You belong to me now, and they’ll never fuck with you _ever again_.’

And with his hands still holding her neck, he kisses her so forcefully that her toes start to curl. He slides a hand under her shirt, proficiently arousing her body to his touch. She wants it, knowing she yearns to be with him despite everything he is, but her tiny fingers grab his wrist, halting him before she loses herself.

Her voice is barely noticeable. ‘Wasn’t all terrible. A long time ago, there was a boy who tried to hide away from the world in a garden of flowers. He gave me a rose, but I didn’t know who he was, and neither did he want to know me. Like the reckless kid he is, he chose to destroy the memorial gardens. Burned it all to the ground.’ She watches his expression slowly alter from a puzzled frown to a tense stare. ‘Think I was drawn to him because he was so much like _me._ Miserable, confused and lonely. And I may have cared about him, but I was too young to understand it. Too naive to realise what he could mean to me.’

An eerie quietness falls on them. His eyes tracing over every detail of her face. She can almost _hear_ him fitting the pieces together in his head. Just like she once did—

But just as quickly as the hush comes, the world around them goes up in smoke. He startles her when he abruptly jerks backwards, tearing his hand away from her grasp like she’s on fire. The emotions within his gaze are distressed as he stumbles off the bed, putting significant distance between them. His jaw flexes as he continues to look at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

‘ _No—_ ’ he mumbles more to himself. ‘No. It can’t be.’ He starts pacing back and forth, every once awhile stealing guarded glances at her as he ruffles his wavy hair in agitation.

‘Ben, I—’

‘That _name_ no longer has _any_ meaning to me,’ he cuts her off sharply. His breathing becomes strenuous. ‘Let the past die. _Kill it,_ if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you are meant to be.’ 

‘Is that what you were told?’ and her feet touches the floor. ‘To take your revenge and _kill_ those who hurt you and your family?’ When she takes a step towards him, he withdraws further. She’s never seen him this way, and given his entire physique overwhelms her, it’s almost amusing if not for the circumstances. When she tries to reach for him, he evades her, pressing his arms firmly by his side.

‘ _Stop_ moving!’ he hisses, but beneath the virulence, she senses he’s rattled. ‘Just stay where you are.’

She grants him this leniency, recognising she’s had far more time to contend with this information than him. The silence drags out, and it’s almost deafening as she hears her own heartbeats pounding in her ears, a strange rhythm in cadence with his own ragged breaths. There’s an unmasked wariness as he looks at her, his body uncannily still with his lips intermittently parting. As if he's holding back his words, all while his gaze sweeps across her, his eyebrows furrowed like she’s a conundrum he’s unable to solve.

Finally, she decides to break the tension. ‘Just answer me this. If...you could go back, would you still kill them?’

‘ _Yes—_ ’ he grits his teeth. ‘I wouldn’t change a _fucking_ thing. Nothing is gonna make me feel differently about them. About _all_ of it, and every decision that's led me here.’

Her heart fractures into pieces. ‘What has the First Order done to you?’

‘Rey— _don’t_ ,’ he snaps a warning. ‘You have _no_ fucking idea what Snoke’s done for me. I understood what I was getting into by submitting myself before the First Order. When I carried out that plot on the Resistance high-command, I went in _knowing_ I wasn’t coming back.’

‘We’ll find a way,’ and she takes another step forward. ‘I’ll help you...’ are the words crooned from her lips like a beautiful promise and she sees him falter.

‘It...’ and his bottom lip quivers slightly. ‘It’s too late for me.’ He closes his eyes for what seems like minutes, but when he opens them again, they’ve hardened back into a black abyss. His voice becomes unrecognisable as the monotone Kylo Ren once more. ‘The Supreme Leader would like to express his wishes for you to serve our cause instead. I’ve shared with him your skills which will prove advantageous to us. If you refuse, he will request your execution.’ He pauses to swallow. ‘And I don’t want to have to kill you.’

Rey feels her blood freeze.

He finally straightens up, throwing his shoulders back and takes slow, steady advances at her. ‘Rey, I want you to join me. If you become one of us, you’ll be mine, and mine alone. No one will touch you.’

‘Don’t do this, Ben. Please don’t go this way.’

His anger instantly flares. ‘ _No_ —you’re still holding on to them. _Let go!_ ’ and his chest heaves intensely. ‘It’s time to let old things die.’

‘I’m not going back to the Resistance.’ And Rey pauses, astonished by her own admission. ‘But the First Order’s not any different. You’ll just be more of the same. With a different name.’

‘Then stay for me. We can be together. That’s all I want.’

Her voice is quiet. 'We’ll destroy one another. Hurt each other. Every time we’re together, all my memories of you...' and her voice breaks. ‘All we have between us is pain.’

His lips press into a tight line, shaking his head dismissively, still adamant as always. ‘We’ll make new ones.’ And he leaves just enough space to tower above her petite frame, lifting his hand, offering it to her—

‘ _Join_ me,’ he repeats firmly. 

He watches her eyes flick down to his open palm before looking back up at him. She stays rooted to her spot, saying nothing. Not moving an inch. Not giving away anything on her mind. Her face is completely blank when he takes another step closer, a desperate urging to take his hand. His fingers do a curling motion, practically beckoning to her, but Rey doesn’t budge, her eyes still searching his.

‘Princess—’ his voice cracks into an emotional plea. ‘ _Please_.’

She feels a sharp sting at the back of her eyes. _Oh_ —how her treacherous heart instantly responds to the former term of endearment he uses for her. It just wasn’t fair how easily manipulative he is of this invisible string that ties their hearts together. While she starts to lift her arm, she cares not for any of the frills the First Order claims to offer her.

She only wants _him_.

Perhaps that is enough for her to take his blood-stained hand in this moment, and when she does, there’s something so profoundly apt when his fingers encompass around hers. His belligerent stance immediately unravels from her touch and it frightens her—how _easy_ it is for her to give in. To forgive and to ignore everything else he’s done. Because she is his, just as he is hers. Since they first met, they’ve always been two broken shards that came together as a whole.

When Ben pulls her into his arms, there’s an unfamiliar tenderness in his movements. She’s unacquainted with the affection that has seemingly warmed into his gaze. He cups her cheeks and kisses her softly, so vastly different from his usual overpowering slants of his mouth on hers. His hands soon move across her back, around her breasts and down her ribcage. She’s dizzy from the contradictions of him, that with all the mayhem and terror he spreads, he has the capacity for _this_ with her. If anything, Ben Solo is a walking paradox.

She flushes from the way he looks at her. Like he’s seeing her for the first time.

If they truly did share a bond all these years, she feels it so strongly now, blooming radiantly between them.

He backs her against the wall and drops to his knees, lifting her leg to rest atop his shoulder—

—and when he leans in, her spine curves instinctively to him. His hands lock around her thighs and waist to steady her as he gives slow, languid licks between her legs. Her entire body quakes avidly as his tongue sorts through her dampness. She holds on to his broad shoulders, her breath stuttering. He’s being uncharacteristically gentle, almost lapping away the discomfort he gave her earlier, but making her come with his tongue is not how he wants to have her right now.

It’s like he knows her body so well, because just before she reaches the brink, he pulls back, scooping her into his arms and brings her back to the bed. There’s no rough tussle of their bodies this time, or clawing at each other so they can reach the inevitable quicker and be filled with one another. He only looks at her quietly as he removes everything off him. His eyes seem to constantly search her face solemnly, as if he’s looking for a sign from her to say _stop_ —

But she doesn’t, so his entire frame covers her after she's undressed.

He finally speaks, ‘I wish I knew earlier. It’s a strange feeling to not have forgotten you, and to know you still remember me. How despite everything, we’ve ended up here together.’

‘Would that have changed anything?’

‘Mm, maybe you’re right,’ he chuckles. 'But I wouldn’t have been so rough for our first time.’ He stops just inches from her lips and her pulse flutters. ‘Let me do it better, princess.’

And it’s feels so different. Or maybe it’s _he_ who’s different, because there’s no feverish collision or primitive need from him to fuck her in complex positions. She’s just on her back and he slides an arm beneath her, holding her closer as he kisses her deeply, his tongue caressing against hers. Her heart’s so close to bursting, knowing he’s deliberately pacing himself, taking his time with her lips and letting his hands wander every inch of her skin. She’s never fucked like this. It's so obscenely intimate, and she suspects, given she feels goose bumps rising all over his body, neither has he—

But perhaps solely because it’s him, that’s why it feels this way, and every emotion they share is easily heightened to an unattainable level.

He watches her fingers trail across his scars and wounds, shuddering when she kisses each of them. He looks at her like she’s his redemption. Like no matter his demons, she’ll give him her love he’s yet to earn. When he finally concedes to her hushed _please_ , he wraps her around his waist and slips inside her—and he does it ever so delicately, till there’s almost a gracefulness to it. His lips constantly brush soothingly against hers, pressing their bodies together until he’s finally all the way in.

Till there are no more spaces.

And no distance between them.

After his first thrust, Rey loses track of time, but she knows this is lasting longer than any before. She floats into a blissful haze with Ben in the darkness of his room. It’s quiet enough that every once awhile, they can hear shifting footsteps and muffled voices outside his door—drawing her back to reality. Every soft moan and sigh that escapes from her, he greedily catches them between their lips as his low, heavy breaths are enough to make her heart stop. The bed creaks lazily in tandem with his reposeful rolling of his hips between her thighs. Just slowly in and slowly out.

He whispers into her neckline, ‘Don’t wanna come, so we can stay like this forever.’

‘Me too,’ her throat catches and she’s lachrymose. ‘I don’t want this to end.’

Rey feels a devastating crush into her soul, because she knows that he’s reached the same deadlock as she has. She wasn’t going to stay and he didn’t want to let her go.

He lifts his head to peer down, and from the way he looks at her, he must have realised it too. Apart from the red heat that fans on his cheeks and chest, his expression remains relatively impassive, but he resolves to show mercy, kissing the tears that trickles down her cheeks. He curls his arm around her back, lifting her up to position the angle better. After giving a surprisingly reassuring kiss to her mouth, he laces their fingers together, and _finally_ —

—brings them to where they need to be.

‘Hold on to me,’ he murmurs.

Her calves tighten around his back as she circles a hand on his nape, pulling him as close as she can, never wanting to leave. Every inch of their bodies becomes deeply intertwined, as if they need to physically assimilate, and when their orgasm hits them, it draws out for ages, almost a deliverance as they plummet together, gasping into each other’s lips.

***

Ben sweeps Rey’s damp hair over her shoulders, tracing his lips on her neck. He’s sitting against the headboard again, his arms wrapped around her as she leans back against him. It’s a surprisingly tender position, but perhaps something poignant has since evolved in him. 

‘Did you ever think about me after?’ she asks, unsure of why she’s becoming emotionally irrational.

‘Maybe in the early years. Sometimes you’d creep into my thoughts, and I’d wonder where you were or what you were doing, but I was angry all the time. Mainly fuelled by vengeance and hatred. That made me quickly forget things from before. We were taught that holding on to the romanticisms of the past prevents you from moving forward.’

He was equally inquisitive on what growing up was like for her. If she enjoyed the meaningless syllabus they studied as cadets, because _none_ of it prepares them for the real-world complexities and violence. Or what food did she choose in the mess hall during breaks. He wonders if she graduated with any distinctions, and when she tells him _yes_ , her body melts when he kisses her nose and says he’s proud of her.

His tone becomes quietly possessive. ‘So, which asshole took your first kiss?’

Rey immediately turns pink. ‘I wasn’t—’ and she shivers when his nose nudges her earlobe. 'I didn’t really think about boys in that way until I was almost seventeen. Always saw them as competitors.’

‘I remember. You were a damn pest in the orphanage, weren’t you? The menacing little Rey beating silly kids to submission.’

Rey fights back a snort.

He refuses to let it go. ‘Who was it?’

She thinks for a while. ‘He was one of the guys in my batch. We were managing a spice raid when a bullet grazed my side. I was bleeding out, and he saved my life. Carried me all the way back to the vehicle and rushed me to the medbay. I guess you could say it started out as a kind of _thank you_ …thing?’

‘Was he the first guy you fucked too?’

She nods.

‘Was it good? Did you like it?’

‘It was okay. Hated it at first because of the pain. Kept feeling this burning sensation, but the more I did it, the better it felt. I use it more as a de-stressing activity, really.’

He sighs. ‘I should've been the one.’ And his hand moves down to part her thighs as he cups her centre, still warm, while the other palm snakes upwards to squeeze her breasts.

She gulps. ‘I’m sure you’ve had plenty—’

‘They're not you,’ and his facial hair tickles her shoulder. ‘I would’ve taken such good care of you, Rey. You’ll be so satisfied, you’d never leave my bed. I would've been your first _and_ your last.’

‘It’ll still hurt,’ her cheeks colour. ‘It was hurting that night at the hotel. _Way_ more than it ever has.’ 

He smirks, planting another kiss on the slope of her neck. ‘I knew all along I wanted to make you mine. Even when you were still too young, and I was too screwed up by my father’s death.’

‘Really?’ her soft tones in disbelief. 

‘And you revived my obsession by being a little brat, _rudely_ waking me with your tiny gun in my face.’ His voice shifts to something delectably lecherous. ‘ _Oh,_ sweetheart—if only you knew _just_ how much I’ve thought about punishing you for that little stunt. I should fucking spank you till you beg on all fours.’

She lets out an unashamed mewl when his fingers glide into her once more. Her arm flies up to clutch his nape, her head falling back onto his shoulder and her spine instantly curving with pleasure when her hips start to twist against his thrusting digits. As she feels him grind his mounting erection against her rear, her other palm digs into his thigh to brace herself, their low pants breaking into distinctive moans.

‘Can’t get enough of you,’ he growls, a deep guttural tone. ‘Gonna make you come again, and again, and again. You’ll never let anyone else have you. Just _me_.’

‘Yes—’ she gasps exhilaratingly when his finger circles at her nipples. 'Only you can—only you will.’

‘Only I can fuck your sweet cunt? Only I can taste every inch of this body?’

‘Only— _ah_ —you!’

‘Say that name, princess,’ his breath hot in her ears. ‘Say _Ben_.’

‘Only you, Ben!’

And while her back's still flushed to his chest, he lifts up her ass until the tip of him lines up at her entrance again. And when he pulls her down by the hips, she lets out an unearthly scream when he buries himself inside her with one precise thrust. He leans forward, his lips dragging across her cheek to the corner of her mouth before he attacks her shoulder, sucking down on her skin as she cries out. 

He made her this way. No man could ever tell her what to say in bed. She’ll never tell them she’s theirs _nor_ it’s only they who can have her. She should detest this possessive, jealous nature that has warped in him. This twisted, burning desire of his to own her—

But maybe because, it’s _him_. It must be. It’s always been him.

And as he begins to bounce her up and down his shaft so effortlessly, they fall apart within that shameless nirvana for a little while more.

***

When Rey wakes up again, outside has grey skies. 

She blinks as she orientates herself back into her surroundings. She remembers falling back asleep close to sunrise, so it must be late afternoon by now. Ben isn’t beside her, so she sits up and stretches herself. She nibbles on her lower lip as she sees the unsalvageable mess they’ve made on his bedsheets. No one can fault his stamina, because Ben fucked her thrice more after they—

 _Was that love-making the second time?_ her pulse skips. _Is that what they usually call it?_

She looks around and sees that he has left by her bedside more water and food to replenish herself. As she eats, her eyes flicker across the room and sees her pack is still there. She sits there quietly, her mind and heart at terrible odds with each other—

—but she finally drags herself to take a shower.

While she’s glad Ben has his own personal fresher, she rolls her eyes when she thinks of how she’s lived with shared communal facilities all her life. As she dries her hair, she looks at herself in the mirror for a few seconds before sweeping her lengths to the side, braiding them like how she used to.

Just as she finishes lacing up her boots, she hears the beeping of someone entering the keycode outside the doors. Her heart skips a beat when Ben enters with Captain Hux. He halts when he sees her and immediately turns to his cohort, muttering something before Hux nods and leaves. When the doors close, Ben slowly makes his way to her. He frowns when he notices she's all dressed up, her bag just by her feet. He stays quiet for several minutes, running a hand through his hair as he stares at his feet. She fights every reflex in her body to reach out and hold him.

When he finally speaks, it’s sombre. ‘I swore to myself I’d never let you go again.’ His eyes glisten faintly before shaking his head. ‘ _No_ —I can’t. I’ll tie you to this _fucking_ bed if I have to.’

Her own voice oddly small. 'I can’t stay here. You know I won’t.’

His expression grows heated. ‘What is it, Rey? You don’t want to be branded a traitor when you’re seen turning against your little gang of Resistance buddies? Then _don’t_.’

‘You said they’d kill me if I didn’t fight—’

‘That’s _my_ shit to deal with. Anyone has a problem with it, they can say it to my face.’

‘I’m not going to endanger your position with your precious Supreme—’

‘ _Stop_ trying to come up with fucking excuses to me!’

Rey falls silent, rising to her feet. She knows he’s hurt. ‘I’ll be nothing more than your plaything. It’ll destroy me, even if it allows us to be together.’

Ben blinks, his fists clenching as he takes deep, calming breaths. ‘What— _what_ do you want from me? What do you need me to do? You want me to let off Dameron? You want me to stay off the field? As long as you’re not asking me to step down, I’ll fucking do it. Tell me. Just don’t say—’

‘I want you to let me go.’

‘ _Rey_ —’ he roars, a dire and broken howl. ‘I said _no_!’

He lunges at her, and like the sweeping hurricanes they are, he pins her against the wall, his entire body restraining her while his fingers rest around her throat. She’s gasping for air as his backward force winded her lungs. She can see his chest heave arduously, his digits press on the points of her neck that are firm enough to disrupt the blood flow, making her giddy. And they stand there wordlessly for what seems like hours, catching their breaths. His gaze burns against hers, and the voracity she sees in them only break her emotions further, but she meets his eyes with the same defiance as his. He’ll consume her, engulf her and drag her along to the bottom of an abyss with him—

But she’ll never surrender. And neither will he.

When he finally shifts his hand from her neck, she doesn’t break eye contact. ‘Even if you cage me here, I’ll never stop trying to find a way out.’

His tone is venomous, holding her against him in a vice-like grip. ‘I’ll find you, no matter where. No matter how hard you try to get rid of me.’

‘I’m not—I don’t think I can get rid of you, even if I wanted to.’

It's a wounded look as he watches her. ‘Why are you so desperate to fuck off from my life? To get away from me? Don’t I mean anything to you?’

‘You _do_ —’ Rey’s lips tremble, ‘—but I’m not the girl you want me to be right now.’

He seems to consider her words. ‘Where will you go?’

‘Anywhere. I’ll go to where my family came from. The neutral zones.’

‘And if one day it falls under the administration from one of the two factions?’

‘I’ll just keep moving on again. I want to give back my way, and defend those who are unable to stand on their own. I’ll do it not as the Resistance. Not as the First Order. But as who I am.’ And her exquisitely large, hazel eyes almost liquify into a brilliant gold. ‘Just Rey.’

***

Despite having much higher crime rates, Rey does notice of _some_ First Order’s ministrations within their precincts. Comparatively to the old-school Resistance who focuses more on defence and commerce, the First Order prioritises technological progress and healthcare. With any job that has been replaced by a droid, there's a system in place for re-skilling and redeployment. Something tells her this structure has been meticulously designed by the very same boy who many years ago—instead of heading out on wild escapades with his cheeky, mischievous father—chose to bury himself behind books rich in the science of politics and history.

Within the Resistance and First Order sectors, there are a few key transport hubs that move people, cargo and goods through the borders.

And today, that’s where Rey will be boarding a train.

She hasn’t taken a train from a transport hub in _years_. Whenever the enforcers need to go through the boundaries, they’d have their own vehicles, or if it was near enough, they’d go on foot. She remembers how she’d grimace every time she’s stationed at a hub, because of the high volume of traffic, the amount of filing they’d need to do after is a complete nightmare.

When Rey packed up her life in her quarters a few days ago, she envisioned heading to one of these complexes alone, but she wasn’t expecting _this_ —

—to be flanked by almost twenty First Order troops with their commanding officer at her side, his hand resting on her lower back as they cross the platform. Ben frowns and shakes his head when one of the officers on duty request to scan her chip. She’s still slightly limping from last night’s affair, and he throws her a dark glance when he notices her wobbly steps. 

Rey squints at the schedule board. ‘I think I’ll take this one. It’s about to leave in five minutes. Will be a ten-hour journey before I’ll reach a neutral zone.’

She turns around when he doesn’t respond. Ben is just staring at her, his face retreated behind the inscrutable mask once more. She knows him well enough now to recognise that beneath all that, he’s exceedingly furious and betrayed by her choice, and she’s probably only still alive due to some misplaced sense of affection and clemency he has for her.

He’s still quiet as he helps her onto one of the passenger carriages. She faces him as he stays rooted on the platform, looking up at her.

‘I guess…this is it for now?’ but she bites her lip awkwardly when he narrows his eyes, unamused. She holds on to the side rails as she leans towards him. ‘Nothing to say to me?’

She sighs when he continues to glower at her. They’ve never been great at proper goodbyes anyway. She cranes her neck forward to kiss him, but his lips remain cold and motionless against her attentions. When she wraps an arm around his neck to pull him closer, he immediately tenses. She doesn’t fucking care. He can sulk all he wants like the idiotic man-child that he is, but she _still_ wants to hold him, because she doesn’t know when she’ll be able to again.

‘I’m yours as you are mine,’ she murmurs in his ears. ‘That won’t ever change.’

Suddenly, when the departing indicators in the train go off and she starts to pull back, Ben grabs the rails and hauls himself up into the carriage, looming over her. He snatches her into his arms, silencing her gasps when he slants his mouth on hers in a blistering kiss. He doesn’t let her go, even as they feel the train starts to rumble with the gears kicking in. And she takes him all in—

Memorising how he smells.

Remembering how he tastes.

Never forgetting how he feels.

With his palms on either side of her cheeks, he sears a vow into her soul, ‘You’re my weakness, princess. And I’m letting you leave because I _know_ I’ll have you forever one day. Even if I have to tear apart this entire planet to claim you.’

And he shifts from her, one hand still curled around her wrist as he steps down. Their eyes rivet to one another, and even as her fingers slowly slip out from his grasp when the train begins to move, she can't look away. Only when he finally disappears from her sight does she make her way into the car to find a seat. She picks a relatively empty section, placing a hand over her wildly galloping heart, taking slow breaths.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out her worn-out portable data device, much smaller than the traditional datapad they have back at the headquarters. She plugs in Ben’s datastick and scrolls till she finds what she’s looking for. His voice still lingers in her head, and she imagines it will for a _very_ long time—

_It’s a surprise just for you, which I think you’ll like._

A small smile curls on her lips as she looks upon the official image of her parents, recorded when they first entered into the former Jakku. It’s taken Rey fifteen years before she's able to put a face to the family she’s lost. She actually thinks she looks mostly like her mother, but she’s definitely got her father’s strong jawline. 

She leans back into her seat as she gazes out the window, her thumb brushing onto her bruised lips.

It still tingles from his touch.

* * *

Ben doesn’t know how long he stood fixed on the platform, staring into the distance after the train that took Rey with it. Finally, he slides a hand into his pocket to reveal a tiny apparatus, tugging out the antenna. His eyes sweep over the information as the tracker notifies him of the target’s whereabouts. He observes the red mark on the display move steadily towards the direction of their borders.

He was _never_ going to let her go without knowing where she is at all times. That datastick holding sentimental information to her will ensure her location and movements are constantly transmitted to him. Without planting that tracer on her, it would have taken him substantially longer to hunt her down when he penetrated the Resistance headquarters.

His communicator rings.

 **‘Where the hell are you?'** Hux asks. **'We’re just about to get a full report on the new fuel production site. You coming?’**

Ben’s eyes flick towards the expansive horizon, the sky turning darker as evening approaches. The platform starts to crowd again as they announce the next incoming train, also heading in the same direction as Rey. He ponders there for mere seconds, every choice he’s ever made in his life flashing before his eyes, all merging into a disorderly stream with remnants of her that she's left behind with him. 

Finally, Ben clicks his tongue as he lights a cigarette.

‘On my way back.’

* * *

Aping my soul  
You stole my overture  
Trapped in Gods program  
Oh I can't escape

Who are we?  
Where are we?  
When are we?  
Why are we?  
Who are we?  
Where are we?  
Why, why, why?

I can't forgive you  
And I can't forget

Why are we in here?

**—Excerpts from "Exogenesis: Symphony Part 1 (Overture)" by Muse**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sob— it was always going to end this way. If I can come up with a fantastic sequel, I would, but for now, the ending for these star-crossed lovers will remain ambiguous. Hope you enjoyed this! 
> 
> Thanks all for joining me on this fic's journey! ❤️
> 
> 🦋If you enjoyed this one, do check out my latest suspense/drama-ish AU modern setting: [sweet dreams (are made of this)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25013197/chapters/60568549)  
> 🦋My [Twitter](http://twitter.com/pocketsofdaisy)  
> 🦋Gorgeous [Moodboard](http://twitter.com/CardiganVixen/status/1282854856617791492) by the sweet and talented CardiganVixen
> 
> Sources  
> [Snoke’s Praetorian Guards](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Elite_Praetorian_Guard)  
> [Anakin’s 501st Legion](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/501st_Legion/Legends)


End file.
